


the moon in your eyes and the stars on your skin | tsukiyama

by floresste



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Slow Burn, everyone is sad, more emotions than volleyball tbh, tsukishima cant deal with feelings, yamaguchi is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21626062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floresste/pseuds/floresste
Summary: tsukishima kei has no idea how to deal with these new feelings, and yamaguchi tadashi has no idea why his best friend is treating him like this.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 74
Kudos: 228





	1. problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "this is not what we meant to be" - richard silken

Tsukishima had a problem.

Tsukishima had problems often. Maybe they were school related. Maybe they had to do with his brother. And every once in a while, his problem would be that he had scratched his glasses and would have to get his lenses replaced. Oftentimes, the problems were people related—annoying people that would not leave him alone and the like.

But it was not often that Yamaguchi was his problem.

Yamaguchi was Tsukishima’s best friend, although he would never admit it to him. He was one of the only people Tsukishima could stand to be around, because Yamaguchi understood him. Yamaguchi could interpret the coldest words and withstand the chill they brought. Yamaguchi had never once tried to change the person that Tsukishima was, even as the words got colder and the distance between them grew. Yamaguchi understood Tsukishima, no matter what.

And maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe Yamaguchi’s unfaltering loyalty had led to this. Maybe the problem was the fact that wherever he went, there was Yamaguchi’s grinning face and steady hands and cheerful disposition, as if his job were to melt the ice Tsukishima left behind.

Tsukishima’s problem was that he had feelings for Yamaguchi.

They had snuck up on him; grabbed him by the throat while he was facing the volleyball net in front of him. It had him in a chokehold that only loosened when he was looking right at Yamaguchi. 

Ignoring the fact that he apparently liked guys (he didn’t have the energy to deal with that issue), having a crush of Yamaguchi was dangerous. Yamaguchi was his best friend. Yamaguchi was his best friend who was in his class and on his volleyball team. Yamaguchi was the person he walked home with, and probably one of the only people he would actually listen to without putting his headphones on.

It was definitely a problem, and one that Tsukishima didn’t know how to deal with. Nothing irritated him more than a problem without a good, obvious solution. Like those math problems with never-ending answers. What a waste of time.

Just like his feelings for Yamaguchi. Nothing would ever come of them. They were best friends, and best friends they would stay. And maybe someday Tsukishima would be the best man at Yamaguchi’s wedding to some little blonde girl and he would smile at him and say, “Tsukki, you’ll give a speech at the reception, won’t you?” and Tsukishima would say no and Yamaguchi would be okay with that because that was who he was.

“Tsukki?”

Tsukishima was snapped out of his thoughts by the very object of them—Yamaguchi, peering curiously at him as they walked home from volleyball practice.

“What?”

“Are you okay? You’re spacing out.”

Tsukishima just hummed in response, and Yamaguchi smiled and nodded. Like always, he understood exactly what Tsukishima meant by his responses, whether they were words or not. Nothing Tsukishima said ever offended him, even if Tsukishima had meant to. Yamaguchi launched back into whatever he had been saying before. Tsukishima thought that it might be about a movie he had seen. 

Mid-sentence, Yamaguchi cut himself off and said, “Hey, Tsukki?”

“What?”

“Can I go over to your house this weekend? After practice?”

They both stopped walking. Tsukishima turned to look at Yamaguchi, and like always, the pressure on his throat lessened and the hand on his heart squeezed harder. “And do what?”

The words were harsh, but Yamaguchi didn’t seem to mind. “We could watch movies together, like we used to do. I thought it could be fun.”

Two parts of Tsukishima waged a war within him. One part of him wanted to agree and surrender what little free time he had to Yamaguchi. He thought about him during that time, this stupid voice reasoned, so why not have the real deal?

The other part of him was throttling himself by the throat, yelling no, he couldn’t spend even more time with Yamaguchi, did he even know what kind of consequences that could have? 

Tsukishima turned around and kept walking. “Don’t invite yourself over to my house. Do it at yours.”

He heard Yamaguchi jog to catch up with him. “Okay. My house on Friday, after practice?”

“Fine.”

The two kept walking in, Yamaguchi still talking about his movie, Tsukishima trying to dislodge whatever had taken place in his throat (it was not working) and trying to not think about Yamaguchi (that was also not working).

Finally, they stopped in front of Yamaguchi’s house. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi called as he began walking up to his front door, waving back to Tsukishima. 

He did not wave back. He did, however, reply, “Okay,” before putting his headphones on and continuing to walk to his house. He was sure Yamaguchi wasn’t offended.

Tsukishima was an idiot. An idiot with a very big problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to the buff writers and one not so buff reader gc for encouraging me with this lmao
> 
> also get ready for this fanfic bc its gonna be,,,,a lot


	2. godzilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "the waters of the dead, a clear road, every lover in the form of stars, the road blocked" - richard silken

Tsukishima didn’t understand how Friday had crept up on him so quickly.

Monday evening, he had agreed to go over to Yamaguchi’s house to watch a movie with him that night, and probably stay the night. He equal parts dreaded and anticipated it; it was something he knew he shouldn’t be doing, but couldn’t help himself from doing anyway. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday all sped by at an astonishingly fast rate, and every day he was closer to that night with Yamaguchi, his heart ached more and more.

He was getting really sick and tired of it.

“Tsukishima!”

It was Coach Ukai, snapping him back to reality. It was his turn at spiking drills.

He pushed all thoughts of Yamaguchi from his mind (albeit, it was not easy to do). The last thing he needed was to make a mistake in front of the rest of the team. Following their loss to Aoba-Johsia during the Interscholastics, everyone had begun working harder than ever to improve their skills. Tsukishima, however, had not, and the rest of the team had begun pushing for him to work harder. He didn’t need to give them an excuse to push more.

He hit all five spikes his first try. It gave him a brilliant moment of clarity; Yamaguchi’s presence had faded from his mind entirely and all he thought about was the incoming set, the way he jumped, and the feel of the volleyball under his hand. Then his turn was up and Yamaguchi came flooding back, like always.

Practice ended after dark. Sore and tired, the team trudged their way to the club room to change. Afterwards, everyone headed their separate ways except for Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, who were headed to Yamaguchi’s house. The two didn’t talk while on their way; Yamaguchi was probably mentally picking out a movie, while Tsukishima was trying to convince himself he wasn’t making a mistake.

Tsukishima really wanted to spend time with Yamaguchi, and that scared him. He didn’t want to do something he’d regret. He didn’t want to put the best friendship he’d ever had in jeopardy because of a little crush. He knew that he just needed a little bit of space, and everything could go back to normal.

But he just couldn’t stop being around him. It was like Yamaguchi was the sun and Tsukishima was the earth, and Tsukishima couldn’t escape him because he gravitated towards him, and Yamaguchi was so bright and everything about him was everything that Tsukishima needed.

Tsukishima glanced up at the night sky, and the bright moon glimmered like a diamond suspended for just the two of them to see. It was beautiful, and in that moment Yamaguchi seemed more like the moon than the sun.

“Hey, Tsukki, do you wanna watch a monster movie or an action movie?”

It was like he knew when Tsukishima was thinking about him. “I don’t care,” Tsukishima replied, “pick one.”

“Let’s watch a monster movie,” Yamaguchi decided. “I wanna watch Godzilla.”

“You’ve already seen Godzilla.”

“It’s a good movie!” Yamaguchi protested. He fell silent for a moment before saying, “Plus, you like it too.”

How long had it been since Tsukishima had watched Godzilla? It had to have been during middle school. _Did Yamaguchi really remember that? ___

__Tsukishima felt his throat tighten, and he muttered, “Let’s just hurry up.”_ _

__Yamaguchi nodded and they walked faster. After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at Yamaguchi’s house. Yamaguchi let him in and Tsukishima stepped into the doorway, breathing in the familiar scent as he bent down to take his shoes off. The whole house smelled exactly like Yamaguchi; it was like Tsukishima was drowning in him. It was a good analogy for Tsukishima’s life._ _

__Yamaguchi’s mom had made them dinner. After thanking her for the food, they made their way up to Yamaguchi’s room. Tsukishima climbed into his bed and got settled with his plate on his lap while Yamaguchi got the movie started up. For a brief moment, while Yamaguchi’s back was turned, Tsukishima allowed himself a wistful smile and indulged the fantasy that this could be more than just a friendly visit. Then he shut the that train of thought down and told himself to not think like that for the rest of the night._ _

__But that was easier said than done. Yamaguchi crawled into bed next to him, and while not a single part of them touched, he could still feel Yamaguchi’s presence next to him. It was not a large bed, and the two were too close for Tsukishima’s comfort. If Yamaguchi noticed how close they were, he didn’t show it, and he clicked the remote and the movie began._ _

__Godzilla was a good movie, arguably one of Tsukishima’s favorites, but tonight he could not focus. Yamaguchi’s mom’s food was good, as always, and it filled Tsukishima up in a way the food he pillaged from his cabinets at home could not. It was warm in the bedroom, unlike the cool chill outside, and Yamaguchi had copious amounts of blankets and pillows to keep the two comfortable. And, of course, there was Yamaguchi next to him; his eyes shined as he watched the movie, and he looked so happy, and Tsukishima couldn’t tell if it was because he really loved Godzilla or if it was because of Tsukishima’s presence, or a combination of the two, but he wasn’t complaining._ _

__It was dangerous. This whole room was dangerous. It smelled like Yamaguchi, and the real thing was sitting inches from Tsukishima. He could reach out and grab Yamaguchi’s hand, which sat idle on the bed between them. Or he could scoot over and rest his head on Yamaguchi’s shoulder, even though Yamaguchi was so shorter than him. Or he could just cut to the chase and kiss him, right here, right now, with Godzilla playing in the background—_ _

__It was dangerous. Tsukishima needed to get out._ _

__He forced his gaze to the television and tried to focus on Godzilla, but he couldn’t stop glancing over at Yamaguchi. He could feel pressure building in his throat, the chokehold tightening, but he couldn’t stop looking at his best friend, who was leaning forward with his lip between his teeth as he intently watched the movie._ _

__Tsukishima needed to go home._ _

__The movie continued. Yamaguchi watched the screen. Tsukishima watched Yamaguchi._ _

__Towards the end, Tsukishima had gotten properly engrossed in the movie. Still, it felt like Tsukishima had been in that room for hours when the credits finally rolled. He watched the words scroll by, knowing that when he looked back to Yamaguchi he’d have to somehow come up with a reason to go home._ _

__He looked over, an flimsy excuse on his tongue, but he fell silent at the sight next to him. Yamaguchi’s head had lolled back a little, resting on the pillows behind him. His hair was splayed out underneath him, some of it sticking to his face and some of it sticking up in the air. He wasn’t asleep yet, but he wasn’t entirely awake. His eyes were barely open, and his breathing was slowing down. It occurred to Tsukishima that Yamaguchi hadn’t considered that he might go home; he was falling asleep and expected that Tsukishima would too. Like they used to when they were in middle school._ _

__But it wasn’t middle school anymore._ _

__“I’m going home,” he said. He slid down to the end of the bed and deftly moved around Yamaguchi’s body._ _

__Yamaguchi hummed, turning his head towards where Tsukishima had just been, before saying, “Huh?”_ _

__“I’m going home,” Tsukishima repeated. He picked up his bag off the floor and grabbed his jacket, crumpled lazily on the floor next to Yamaguchi’s._ _

__“What? Tsukki,” Yamaguchi protested, sliding off the bed, “you’re leaving?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Tsukishima replied. He stopped by the door, watching Yamaguchi rub his eyes. He knew they were both thinking the same thing: there had been an unspoken agreement that Tsukishima would stay the night._ _

__But Tsukishima couldn’t do that. Not now, with his mind wandering, and the two of them so close, and Yamaguchi’s bed so small and warm._ _

__Tsukishima opened the door and started down the hall. A few seconds later, he heard Yamaguchi padding after him on bare feet. Tsukishima reached the entryway and bent down to put his shoes back on._ _

__“At least let me walk you home, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi mumbled._ _

__Tsukishima didn’t even look up as he laced his shoes. “You’re tired. You should just stay here.”_ _

__Yamaguchi didn’t say anything else. Tsukishima finished tying his shoes and stood up. “Thank you for having me over. And tell your mom thank you for the food.”_ _

__Yamaguchi wrapped his arms around himself and nodded, so Tsukishima turned around and left._ _

__As Tsukishima walked home, guilt weighing heavily on his lovesick heart, he made a decision. He decided to start distancing himself from Yamaguchi until he could get his feelings under control again. He would have to spend less time with him, which would be difficult, considering classes and lunch and volleyball, but he would do it. And while it would hurt both of them now, it would save their relationship for the future. And in that future, when he’s getting married to that little blonde girl and Tsukishima’s feelings have disappeared, he would tell Yamaguchi the truth._ _

__Tsukishima nodded to himself as the wind picked up, blowing cold air around him. It would be hard, and it would hurt, but he was sure it was the right thing to do._ _

__But still, for tonight, he thought of Yamaguchi’s soft, sleeping face, and his smell that still clung to Tsukishima’s clothes, and for tonight, he smiled._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh.......they got me weak........i;m love them sm
> 
> also thank u for the nice comments! they mean a lot to me <3


	3. okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "the radio aches a little tune that tells the story of what the night is thinking" - richard silken

The lights were out in Yamaguchi’s room. It was past midnight, and the house was silent. Everyone else had already gone to sleep. Yamaguchi knew he would have to go to bed soon; he had practice tomorrow morning and needed to be at the top of his game.

Instead, he was laying in his bed, his arms wrapped around himself, staring blankly at the ceiling. Godzilla was still on, playing the title screen over and over. If he closed his eyes, he could still pretend that Tsukki was still next to him.

He couldn’t understand why he’d left. It had been a while since he’d stayed the night, but whenever they came over to watch movies, they’d fall asleep together. He’d assumed it would be the same this time. Did Tsukki not know that?

If he didn’t know that, then why did he pack an extra shirt in his sports bag?

Yamaguchi groaned and covered his face with his arms. Godzilla roared on the television. _Why did Tsukki leave?_

Yamaguchi thought about middle school; in particular, one movie night the two had spent together. Something had sparked an argument between the two, and they ended up spending the whole night arguing. They never even get around to watching the movie. They just argued and screamed until Yamaguchi fell asleep on the floor and Tsukki fell asleep on Yamaguchi. They slept mad that night and woke up mad and kept arguing until Yamaguchi admitted defeat and asked if they could finally watch the movie. Not once that night had Tsukishima mentioned leaving. So why tonight?

Was it something Yamaguchi had done? Was he offended that he had nodded off towards the end of the movie? Or was it something else entirely? Maybe Tsukki was tired of spending time with Yamaguchi. He knew that he could be clingy, but he couldn’t help it. After being bullied all through elementary school and into middle school, he couldn’t help but stick to someone who could put up with his presence.

Yamaguchi’s stomach dropped. Was that it? Maybe Tsukki had never really wanted to be his friend, and had just pitied the poor bullied kid, and now everything had gone too far.

Yamaguchi shook his head and tried to force those thoughts down. Tsukki wasn’t the type of person to silently deal with someone he can’t stand. He hadn’t stopped mocking Hinata since they’d started volleyball club. If Tsukki didn’t want to be his friend, he’d have told him, and he’d never have agreed to come over in the first place.

If he wasn’t tired of Yamaguchi, why had he left so early?

Yamaguchi glanced at the analog clock on his bedside table. It read 12:32.

_I really need to go to bed._

Instead, he grabbed his phone to check if Tsukki had texted him. He hadn’t. He tossed the phone and heard it land dully on a pile of clothes somewhere.

Did he leave because of the messy room? Did he not like the movie choice? Was he not feeling good?

It did Yamaguchi no good to think about these things. But he did anyways.

Did he not like my mom’s food? Did he not like me? Was I too close to him? Did he have other plans?

Maybe he just didn’t want to spend any more time with Yamaguchi. Just as with all his friends in elementary school, Yamaguchi’s novelty had worn off. Tsukki would slowly start waning off their time together, until he avoided him entirely. The thought filled Yamaguchi’s entire body with anxious energy. It had been bad enough losing all his old friends. He didn’t want to lose Tsukki, too.

Hot tears seeped out of the corner of his eyes, trickling down to the pillow underneath him. He wiped furiously at his eyes. _How lame_ , he chided himself. _Crying over something that’s your own fault._ But he couldn’t help it. _I don’t want to lose Tsukki._

He pressed his palms into his eyes and took deep breaths, willing himself to stop crying. His mind was a painful choir, singing a discordant hymn of _pathetic_ over and over until he could practically hear out loud. His heart beat painfully against his chest, as if it was trying to escape. He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to think of something else. 

He tried to think of a happy memory, something to cheer him up, but it wasn’t working because all of his favorite memories were Tsukki. Tsukki, who was sick and tired of him.

He pressed his palms more aggressively, bright splotches of color dancing across his eyelids. The choir only rose in volume, the words of the song switching to _Tsukki._ He began reciting the steps of volleyball plays the team was beginning to learn, just to give himself something else to think about other than the endless chant of _Tsukki, Tsukki, Tsukki._ Running over the motions of the plays in his head had a soothing effect; slowly, his heart beat slowed down and the choir quieted down, leaving Yamaguchi in silence once again. 

The analog clock read 12:54. Yamaguchi let out a shaky sigh and dropped his arms to his sides.

It was okay. Yamaguchi couldn’t force Tsukki to be his friend. If their friendship had run its natural course and it was time for them to part ways, Yamaguchi could accept that. It would hurt like hell, but he could accept that if it was what Tsukki wanted.

He closed his eyes. He was still in his practice gear, and did not plan on changing. _It’s okay_ , he repeated to himself, _if it’s what Tsukki wants._

He fell asleep repeating that to himself, trying to make it true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it begins,,,,,,the angst,,,,,,,,the pain,,,,,,,,


	4. distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "sunlight pouring across your skin, your shadow flat on the wall" - richard silken

When Tsukishima’s alarm went off at 6 A.M., he was more tired that usual. It might have been because he had gone to bed later than usual, or maybe because it was day one of his new plan to distance himself from Yamaguchi, and his first obstacle had already arrived: morning volleyball practice.

He slammed the off button on his alarm clock a little too aggressively and slid out of bed, stifling a yawn. He could do this. It was practice, anyways; Yamaguchi would be focusing on himself, not Tsukishima. And maybe he’d stay a little while after practice, and Tsukishima could sneak out without it looking too suspicious. He didn’t want to distance himself completely—that would raise too many red flags. He just needed a little distance. He needed Yamaguchi at arm’s length away, away from the blast zone, until Tsukishima was okay again. The thought made his heart hurt a little, but he could handle it.

He got dressed in his sportswear and grabbed his bag. He took a protein bar from the kitchen (it was technically Akiteru’s, but he wouldn’t miss it), headed out the door and began the walk to Karasuno. He stopped as he passed by Yamaguchi’s house; typically, Yamaguchi would be waiting for Tsukishima to walk by and would run out to join him. But today, the whole house was dark, and there was no Yamaguchi rushing out to meet him. Tsukishima kept walking, equal parts relieved he wouldn’t have to walk with him and worried that he hadn’t come out.

He arrived at Karasuno at the same time as Hinata and Kageyama, which meant he was too early.

“Tsukishima,” Hinata asked, “where’s Yamaguchi?”

“How should I know?” Tsukishima breezed past him into the club room, leaving the shorter boy huffing about manners behind him.

Before getting dressed, Tsukishima ate his protein bar and checked his phone for any texts from Yamaguchi. Nothing. He was a little worried, but decided not to send a text or anything of the sort. Yamaguchi could handle himself, he decided. If he’s late, he’s late.

As he pulled his shirt on, Hinata and Kageyama began shouting behind him, probably arguing about something stupid. Just as he was about to yell at them, Tanaka burst in being just as loud, followed by Noya and Asahi, then the other three second years, and then Suga and Daichi. Still, no Yamaguchi.

He pulled the rest of his uniform on, glancing at his phone one last futile time. Nothing.

“Tsukishima, do you know where Yamaguchi is?” Suga asked.

“No.”

“Is he sick?”

“I don’t know.”

He stuffed his phone back in his bag. He didn’t understand why everyone was treating him like he was Yamaguchi’s babysitter. Sure, he tended to cling to him, but Yamaguchi was his own person. It wasn’t Tsukishima’s job to take care of him.

The room door slid open and Yamaguchi, out of breath, skidded into the room, his hair uncharacteristically disheveled and messy. “Sorry I’m late,” he greeted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I slept through my alarm.”

Daichi slapped Yamaguchi on the shoulder, and Yamaguchi flinched. Daichi was much stronger than he looked. “Glad you’re here, Yamaguchi. Get dressed.”

Yamaguchi nodded and made a beeline for Tsukishima. The others began to file out of the room to start practice. Tsukishima thought about walking away with them, but it would be too obvious that he was avoiding Yamaguchi if he did that, so he waited. Plus, he wanted to know the truth of why he was late.

“Hey, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi said. He smiled brightly at Tsukishima, and it felt like his breath had been stolen. There were faint dark circle under his eyes, indicating he hadn’t slept much last night, but his smile was as bright and friendly as ever. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, and Tsukishima had a split-second intrusive thought about planting a kiss right on the corner of his eye. Then the moment passed and so did the thought, thankfully.

“Why are you late?” Tsukishima pressed, acting like he was finishing putting his things away.

“I overslept,” Yamaguchi said, his voice soft.

“You look like shit.”

“Hey,” Yamaguchi scolded, lightly bumping his arm against Tsukishima’s. His heart did not seem to be in it. “That’s not nice.”

“You look exhausted,” Tsukishima said, pushing him back a little harder than he’d intended.

Yamaguchi shrugged a little. “I slept fine.”

Was he lying? Probably. But there was nothing that Tsukishima could do to convince him to talk about it if he didn’t want to. Besides, this could be a good first step to distance—not pushing him on things like this.

“Okay,” Tsukishima said. “Get dressed and hurry up.” He left the club room and headed down to the gym.

Yamaguchi joined them a few minutes later. Throughout practice, despite his best efforts to ignore him, Tsukishima’s eyes kept wandering to Yamaguchi. His movements were more lethargic than usual, and his serves didn’t have as much power. Most didn’t make it over the net.

Tsukishima debated talking to him during their break, but Suga approached him instead, so Tsukishima hung back against the wall and pretended he wasn't watching them.

The rest of practice passed by uneventfully. Once it had ended, Tsukishima leaned against the gym wall, drinking his water. He felt gross from all the sweating he had done. Hopefully, he’d be home soon and could take a shower. Yamaguchi, spotting him, crossed the gym and stood next to him. They both guzzled their water and watched Hinata and Kageyama practice their fast attack more.

Yamaguchi sighed. “I’m tired.”

Tsukishima didn’t reply, and Yamaguchi didn’t elaborate. He did look tired, but it made no sense; he’d been nodding off last night before they’d even finished the movie. He should have gone to bed once Tsukishima had left.

Unless he’d stayed up, which would also make no sense. Yamaguchi had been exhausted. He debated asking about it, but decided not to press the issue. If he’d stayed up late even though he was tired, that was his decision.

Or maybe he’d just pretended to be tired because he wanted Tsukishima to leave. 

He didn’t think that was it. But maybe it was.

Yamaguchi interrupted his thoughts. “I’m glad you came over yesterday.” He didn’t turn to face Tsukishima, so instead Tsukishima studied his side profile. Yamaguchi didn’t have a particularly beautiful side profile; he was, by all means, average. But his soft jaw line, his faint smattering of freckles that trailed down his cheekbone, his soft smile as he watched the other two first years, all made Tsukishima’s heart race and his palms sweat.

 _Shit._

“It’s not a big deal,” Tsukishima said dismissively.

“I guess not.” Yamaguchi finally turned to look at Tsukishima, smiling gently, even though his eyes were stormy, and said, “It meant a lot to me, at least.”

Tsukishima opened his mouth to reply, but found that his voice was gone, stolen by the boy next to him with the sweetest voice Tsukishima had ever heard. Just as Yamaguchi’s face was transforming to confusion at Tsukishima’s silence, Takeda called for everyone’s attention. Tsukishima was spared from an explanation and they went to the entrance of the gym.

They all gathered around Takeda, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The man looked unusually serious. Yamaguchi sat next to Tsukishima, and he simultaneously wished he hadn’t and wished he’d sit closer.

Takeda began talking about the upcoming exams and a weekend trip to Tokyo to play against Nekoma and some other teams. It was nothing that Tsukishima wanted to concern himself with; he would pass his exams with ease and he would play the games as usual. This news didn’t seem to warrant a serious talk like this.

Then Takeda mentioned that the first day of games took place at the same time as the supplementary exams for those who failed, so anyone who failed their exams would not be able to attend the games. Tsukishima looked over at Karasuno’s resident idiots, all of whom seemed shocked and upset by this news. He thought that Hinata might cry.

He heard Yamaguchi giggle at their reactions behind him, a sound that sent a quick lightning bolt of joy coursing through his veins.

_Shit._

Tsukishima didn’t care if the four idiots came or not, but he couldn’t deny that losing three of their starters and their libero wouldn’t bode well for the team. But that was their own fault for being stupid. Takeda released them on a warning to do well on their exams or suffer the consequences.

Hinata and Kageyama bemoaned the ‘unfair’ ultimatum, while Nishinoya and Tanaka had already begun begging the other third years to help them study. Tsukishima hoped they wouldn’t ask him for help—there was no way he’d voluntarily spend more time with those two.

Tsukishima walked past everyone else and into the club room, trailed by Yamaguchi. It wasn’t too late in the afternoon; if he got home now, he could probably avoid the rest of his family and stay in his room for the rest of the night. He needed to start studying for exams, anyways.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said, “can we walk home together?” His voice was muffled, like he was pulling his shirt off.

Tsukishima, using incredible amounts of self-control, did not look and replied, “Sure.”

The club door opened again and everyone else began filing in, talking loudly about exams and school. Thankfully, he and Yamaguchi finished changing before everyone else and were able to leave before the others. 

They walked in a companionable silence, like always. Except today, something hung in the air between them, like a palpable wall that neither was able to get over. There was something unsaid, something unspoken, that was between them, creating a gaping chasm. The distance that Tsukishima wanted.

But really, he hadn’t expected it to hurt already.

Yamaguchi glanced over at Tsukishima. Tsukishima glanced over at Yamaguchi. Their eyes met and they both stalled, slowing down and looking at the other. Yamaguchi opened his mouth, about to speak, when—

“Tsukishima!”

It was Hinata, and Kageyama trailing behind him. They must have run to catch up.

He groaned and turned to face the two. Yamaguchi did the same, and whatever words had been on the tip of his tongue were swallowed back down. Neither of them spoke as the other two first years approached them, Hinata waving his arms around like he was crazy.

Which he was, but still.

The two finally reached them, slightly out of breath. Tsukishima stared at them with disdain, while Yamaguchi looked confused. Hinata looked up and said, “Tsukishima, please teach us!”

“Huh?” Tsukishima sneered. “No way.”

“Please,” Hinata begged. “I have to pass these exams!”

“Get lost.” Tsukishima turned away to leave, but before he could, Hinata bent at the waist and bowed.

“Please!” Hinata repeated. “I know you’re in class four! Please help us.”

Tsukishima slowly turned back towards the two. He had to admit, it was a little amusing to hold all the power over them. “Well, well,” he mused, “isn’t this interesting?” He looked from Hinata, still bowing, to Kageyama, who was standing still next to him. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask as well?”

He hadn’t expected anything, but Kageyama bowed as well. Through grit teeth, he muttered, “Please.”

Tsukishima smiled in spite of himself, and Yamaguchi giggled again. It occurred to Tsukishima that he would do almost anything to hear that giggle over and over again.

Even after making them beg, Tsukishima wasn’t convinced. He didn’t really want to help the two. “I would,” he started, “but I don’t have the time.”

“What if you did a half hour before practice every day?” Yamaguchi said. “That wouldn’t be too bad, would it?”

It would be terrible. Tsukishima would hate every second of it. But he couldn’t say no to Yamaguchi.

_Shit._

“Fine,” Tsukishima said, turning away, “but you’d better have your own stuff. And be on time.”

He walked away. Yamaguchi waved to the others and followed, leaving Hinata and Kageyama shouting their thank-you’s behind them. They continued on their usual route, the oppressive silence from before returning.

“What were you going to say back there?” The words came tumbling out of Tsukishima’s mouth before he could stop himself.

“Hm?” Yamaguchi hummed. “When?”

“Back before they interrupted.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi kicked a rock into someone’s gutter. “I forgot.”

Tsukishima cursed Hinata and Kageyama for interrupting. They didn't speak the rest of the way home, the distance between them growing with every silent second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this chapter bad? yes  
> is the timeline of this fic messy? yes  
> am i going to continue like this? yes  
> do i know what i'm doing? not really  
> despite having struggled to write this one it ended up being more than 2k words.......oops


	5. tokyo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell, and how i ruined everything by saying it out loud" - richard silken

Despite Tsukishima’s efforts at tutoring (and some help from the new manager), Hinata and Kageyama failed their exams.

Only one each, which was supposed to be impressive, but ended up being even more embarrassing. Hinata had filled in all his answers one number off, which gave him a failing grade. Kageyama focused only on memorization and ended up failing the reading comprehension part of his modern literature exam. Tsukishima had looked over his exam and had to admit that his kanji was perfect, but that couldn’t make up for pure stupidity.

Ennoshita, however, must have whipped the other two into shape, because Tanaka and Nishinoya passed, even if just barely. They would be arriving at the Tokyo matches without their fast attack duo, but they weren’t going to be totally powerless.

Now, Tsukishima stood in the brisk morning air, Yamaguchi at his side. It reminded him of a trip they’d taken in middle school; it had been a freezing cold morning and Yamaguchi had pressed against Tsukishima’s side, “for warmth,” he’d said. Now, Yamaguchi stayed a safe distance away. Tsukishima was a little glad for it.

Everyone was still tired, so no one was talking too much; everyone could notice Hinata’s absence. If he were there, he’d probably be yelling something about Tokyo and the upcoming matches and it would be everything but quiet. And Hinata and Kageyama would, in theory, be joining them later in the day in Tokyo, and things would get loud and annoying again, but for now, there was peace and quiet.

“Give it back!”

“No way, it’s mine now!”

Well, something like it.

Tanaka and Nishinoya were now arguing over what looked to be something from a convenience store; Tanaka was holding it above his head and dancing out of Nishinoya’s reach. Daichi was trying desperately to get them to stop it, and Coach Ukai looked ready to hit all of them with a volleyball.

After what felt like years waiting in the cold, they loaded onto the bus. Tsukishima took a window seat, and Yamaguchi dropped down into the seat next to him, stifling a yawn. Ever since that night at Yamaguchi’s house, things had been a little strange between them. They weren’t quite at arm’s length away yet; it was only a little more like the distance Tsukishima kept from his family. It was still close to him, close enough to touch him, if he so desired. And really, touching Yamaguchi was all he desired these days. But he maintained the distance, pushing back every time Yamaguchi tried to come closer. 

It was similar to the way they were seated now. Tsukishima was looking out the window, his head resting against the cool glass. Yamaguchi sat next to him, close enough that Tsukishima could feel his presence, but still a safe distance away. The glass was cold, and Tsukishima was sure Yamaguchi’s skin was warm. He wished it was Yamaguchi his head was resting against.

We also wished he’d stop thinking like that. He had thought that a little distance would at least quell some of the intrusive thoughts, but he’d had no such luck. He thought about Yamaguchi almost incessantly; he was one of his first thoughts in the morning and one of his last thoughts at night. 

Sometimes Yamaguchi even appeared in his dreams, smiling so brightly it put the sun to shame. Sometimes, in these dreams, Yamaguchi took his hand and kissed him and told him he meant the world to him. Other times Yamaguchi screamed and hit him and told him he hated him. Somehow, the former hurt worse.

The bus revved up and started on the long drive to Tokyo. Tsukishima envied the teams that were still warm in their beds right now; the chill from the window was spreading to the rest of his body. The others in the bus were talking; it wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet enough for Tsukishima to sleep. He considered putting his headphones on, but he didn’t like to do that when he was with Yamaguchi, even if they weren’t talking.

He figured he could talk to Yamaguchi, but what would he say? It was usually Yamaguchi who would initiate their conversations, and even then, Tsukishima didn’t talk too much. Most of their relationship revolved around Yamaguchi talking and withstanding the few snarky remarks Tsukishima added.

“Hey, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi was tapping his arm. It was like Yamaguchi was telepathic and knewn when Tsukishima was thinking about him. “Can we talk?”

He replied with his voice low, so no one nearby could hear them. “About what?”

“I don’t know,” Yamaguchi replied. He was looking at a text on his phone and had not looked back up yet, like he was trying to be nonchalant. “Anything, I guess.”

Tsukishima turned his body towards Yamaguchi, but didn’t reply. He didn’t typically just talk about ‘anything’, and Yamaguchi knew that. More than likely, there was something specific that Yamaguchi wanted Tsukishima to talk about.

Yamaguchi glanced back at him. “Tsukki?”

Tsukishima shrugged.

“Can we talk?”

He shrugged again.

Yamaguchi sighed and set his phone down on his lap. “Tsukki? If you didn’t like someone, would you still hang out with them?”

“I don’t hang out with people I don’t like.”

“I know.” Yamaguchi picked at his nails; the ends were messy and worn, like he’d been biting them. Funny. That was a bad habit that Yamaguchi had kicked a while ago. “But…you know.”

“I don’t.” Yamaguchi was acting strange.

Yamaguchi looked down at his lap and shook his head. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Tsukki.”

“You’re being weird,” Tsukishima observed.

Yamaguchi looked up and smiled. It looked genuine, but Tsukishima couldn’t feel the warmth that usually radiated from Yamaguchi’s smiles. “Sorry, Tsukki. I’m just tired today.”

Tsukishima hesitated before replying, “Get more sleep.”

Yamaguchi rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right.” He laughed a little, picked up his phone again and fell silent. 

Tsukishima turned back to the window, blankly watching the scenery flit by. That had been a disastrous conversation. Yamaguchi had acted strange and Tsukishima had acted disinterested. And why had he asked such a strange question? Tsukishima was practically the only friend Yamaguchi had. Did he not want to be Tsukishima’s friend anymore?

Or, maybe, he had noticed the growing distance between them. Yamaguchi wasn’t an idiot; he could probably tell that Tsukishima had been distancing himself lately. Did Yamaguchi think that Tsukishima didn’t want to be his friend anymore? That couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Tsukishima wanted to be Yamaguchi’s friend so badly that it hurt; it was why he was distancing himself. The distance meant taking a while to make sure his feelings subsided so he could go back to being Yamaguchi’s best friend, not losing Yamaguchi as a friend entirely.

It would have been easy to tell Yamaguchi the truth. All he would have to do is tell him that he needed some space for a while, but that he still wanted to be his friend. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to, because he knew that would require an explanation, and then what would he say? _I’m in love with you and don’t want to be?_ No, maybe Yamaguchi just needed to think that they were drifting apart for Tsukishima to get the time that he needed.

Tsukishima leaned his head against the window again and shut his eyes. He wished he’d never caught feelings in the first place. He wished he never thought of Yamaguchi. He wished he’d been placed in a different class and never joined the volleyball team and never met Yamaguchi in the first place.

More than that, though, he wished Yamaguchi felt the same way he did.

Tsukishima could feel himself nodding off. Maybe he could get some sleep before they arrived in Tokyo and would feel better in time for their matches.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

He was brought back from the brink of sleep by Yamaguchi’s soft voice. Tsukishima mumbled something unintelligible and took his glasses off to rub his eyes. Finally, he replied, “What?”

“Do you, uh, not like Godzilla anymore?”

“Huh?” He looked at Yamaguchi, who looked away as soon as they made eye contact. “What kind of question is that?”

“I just assumed that you still liked monster movies,” Yamaguchi muttered. “Maybe you don’t like Godzilla anymore.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“I just want to know why you left my house that night.”

_Damn it._ They were both still hung up over that night. Maybe going had been a mistake.

“It wasn’t about Godzilla. Don’t be stupid.” The words came out much harsher than he’d meant for them to.

Yamaguchi had noticed as well, and his shoulders tensed up. “I was just curious. If it wasn’t Godzilla, then what was it?”

Tsukishima didn’t really have an excuse ready, so he made something up on the spot. “I didn’t feel good.”

Yamaguchi looked back at him. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “I just didn’t.”

Yamaguchi visibly relaxed and smiled. It was a small, tentative smile, but it was a genuine one. It made Tsukishima’s heart race. “I thought that—well, it doesn’t really matter.”  
“Thought what?”

“That maybe you were avoiding me or something.” He laughed bashfully. “I guess I was just overthinking it.”

All Tsukishima needed to say was, yeah, you were overthinking it, and all of this would be over. He could quell Yamaguchi’s worries and everything between them would be back to normal.

But normal meant the distance he had been building between them would completely disappear. Normal meant everything he’d done so far would have been for nothing and he’d be back at square one. 

Tsukishima said nothing and turned back to the window.

He was sure Yamaguchi noticed his silence.

After another hour or so on the road, in which neither Tsukishima nor Yamaguchi spoke, they arrived at Tokyo. Nishinoya and Tanaka were the first ones out of the bus, and immediately began screaming something about Sky Tree. Tsukishima ignored them and exited the bus, and Yamaguchi followed. _Like always._

They played multiple matches that day against powerhouse schools from all over Tokyo. Suga was subbing for Kageyama, and Ennoshita was subbing for Hinata. At the beginning of every match, they hoped that Hinata and Kageyama would arrive, but at the start of every match, they were disappointed. Tanaka remarked that they might not have survived the ride up with his sister. Tsukishima hated to admit it, but without Hinata and Kageyama’s fast attack, they couldn’t hope to stand on the same level as the teams they played.

The punishment for losing a match was one round of flying laps, in which you dived as if you were receiving the ball all the way around the court. They were miserable, and gave Tsukishima floor burns on his hands. But the person who seemed suffered the most was Yamaguchi. He was always the slowest and always seemed to be in the most pain after a lap.

During a break in the middle of the afternoon for a snack, Tsukishima decided he would ask Yamaguchi why he was struggling. After all, a volleyball player who couldn’t receive was worthless, and he didn’t want Yamaguchi to become worthless.

“Yamaguchi,” he called, striding towards the boy. Yamaguchi was sitting against the wall with his kneepads pulled down, and he was fanning himself.

“Oh, Tsukki,” he greeted, “do you need something?”

“Why are you so slow on the flying laps?” His tone was harsh, but he didn’t back down.

“Ah,” Yamaguchi said, “no reason. They’re just hard on my legs.”

“A volleyball player who can’t make receives is useless,” he said.

Yamaguchi looked down. “I know that.”

“Make sure you’re not.”

“I know, Tsukki.”

Hinata and Kageyama arrived late in the day. Even with their added help, they couldn’t win a single match and did round after round of flying laps. Yamaguchi lagged behind every round, and Tsukishima wondered if there was something Yamaguchi wasn’t telling him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont like this chapter very much........but consume, children..........  
> i more than likely will not be posting in the next couple of weeks because of finals.......already blew off lots of homework to finish this chapter so.......  
> thank u guys for consuming :) lots of love to you all <3  
> p.s. i updated every chapter with a richard silken quote at the beginning so maybe go look at those? they kind of have to do with plot and stuff and his poetry is good so :)


	6. meaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "they look like me. i move them around. i prefer to blame others, it's easier. king me." - richard silken

After their talk on the bus, things had improved slightly between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. Although, for Tsukishima, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. 

After the weekend spent at Tokyo, they had been given a day off practice. After that, they’d gone right back to their regular practice schedule. They had a few weeks before they went back to Tokyo for a week-long training camp, and the whole team wanted to be prepared. Sometimes, they spent the whole day practicing, and when Tsukishima made it back home, he was disgusting. He thought everyone was too riled up about the training camp, Yamaguchi included.

Tsukishima really wasn’t looking forward to it; a whole week with almost no reprieve from Yamaguchi could prove dangerous. But he didn’t have to think about that for a few weeks; at that moment, he was sprawled out on his bed, dripping with post-practice sweat and playing a video game and definitely not thinking about Yamaguchi.

There was a knock at his door, interrupting his wonderful solitude. “Kei!”

 _Akiteru._ “What?” Tsukishima snapped.

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He came in anyway. “Are you playing video games?”

Tsukishima didn’t answer. He thought he was entitled to some time to relax, and that meant time away from Akiteru. 

Akiteru walked over and sat down on his bed. Tsukishima shifted away from him. “What do you want?” he asked.

“Mom wanted me to ask you something,” Akiteru replied, swinging his legs back and forth and watching Tsukishima play. He pointed at the screen and said, “You missed an enemy over there.”

Tsukishima grit his teeth. “Spit it out already.”

“Mom wants to—hey, pause the game.” Tsukishima ignored him and kept playing, so Akiteru leaned over and took his glasses off his face.

Tsukishima refused to give his brother the satisfaction of irritating him; instead, he calmly paused the game and turned to him. His face was blurry, but he could tell he looked smug. “What?”

“Mom wanted me to let you know that we’re going to dinner tomorrow.”

“Okay.” That was not more important than his game. He tried to take his glasses back, but his brother held them high in the air. From his reclined position on the bed, he could not reach them, and he had no intention of moving.

“And it’s at Yamaguchi’s house. With his family.”

Tsukishima froze. “What?”

“Yamaguchi’s house. You know. We used to eat over there all the time. They invited us over again.”

Tsukishima could feel the familiar warring emotions in his chest. He was always excited to spend more time with Yamaguchi, but he wanted to suppress that; he already had to see him at daily practice, and he’d soon have a whole week with him. He didn’t need to spend more time with him.

“I’m not going,” he said finally. Even though he couldn’t make out the details of Akiteru’s face, he knew his mouth had fallen open.

“You’re not going?” he asked. “You’re kidding, right? You’ve always had a bad sense of humor.”

“I’m serious,” he muttered. He made another desperate grab for his glasses, but his efforts were thwarted again.

“Seriously? He’s your best friend,” Akiteru said, leaning against the wall, twirling Tsukishima’s glasses between his fingers. “I thought you’d be excited.”

Tsukishima was done talking about this. He shrugged and turned back to his game, as if he could go back to playing without seeing. “Kei,” his brother started, scooting closer to him. “Is everything okay between you and Yamaguchi?”

Tsukishima unconsciously tensed up. He hadn’t begun thinking about coming out to his family; he was so preoccupied with the fact that he liked Yamaguchi that he hadn’t started processing that he liked boys yet. And if he told Akiteru that he liked boys, he’d figure out that Tsukishima meant he liked Yamaguchi, and that would be too much to deal with at once. He had to come up with a different excuse as to why he couldn’t go over to Yamaguchi’s.

He said, “I already see enough of him.”

“He’s your friend, Kei.” There was pity in Akiteru’s voice, and he couldn’t tell if it was for Yamaguchi or for him.

“He is.” But the problem was that he wanted him to be so much more. He was sure Akiteru would be able to understand the way he felt; he just worried he wouldn’t be able to understand the Yamaguchi part of it.

“You have to go anyway.” Akiteru leaned forward and slotted the glasses back on Tsukishima’s face. There was a fingerprint in the middle of the lens. “But be nice while we’re there.”

Akiteru waited for a reply, but Tsukishima didn’t give him one. Finally, he gave up and left the room.

Tsukishima let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and let his head slump forward, resting on the soft mattress. Keeping all of his feelings to himself was exhausting. Keeping himself distanced from Yamaguchi was exhausting. Everything he was doing, all the snide remarks and cool replies, were supposed to get rid of his feelings towards Yamaguchi. Instead, he could feel them festering under his skin; they burned hot every time Yamaguchi drew closer to him. At practice the other day, Yamaguchi’s hand had brushed Tsukishima’s, and it was like someone had set off a firework inside of Tsukishima.

And now he was going over to his house for dinner tomorrow. He was already dreading it. He hadn’t been over since the movie night. What if Yamaguchi asked him to stay the night? What if Tsukishima couldn’t say no?

He let out one long-winded sigh and pushed all thoughts of Yamaguchi out of his mind. He would think about it later.

Later was an hour, then two hours, then the next day. The next twenty-four hours passed by in a blur. Every time he blinked, it felt like an hour passed, bringing him closer and closer to that dreaded dinner party with Yamaguchi.

After practice, he walked home with Yamaguchi, like always. Neither of them had mentioned the dinner yet. Tsukishima prayed that Yamaguchi thought it was a bad idea as well; he wanted him to say that it would be awkward and he would prefer it if he didn’t come. It’d be the perfect excuse.

They reached Yamaguchi’s house and Tsukishima paused. He reached up to put his headphones on, but before Yamaguchi walked away he said, “I’ll see you later, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima froze. “I’m looking forward to it,” Yamaguchi continued. He smiled softly and headed up to his house.

Tsukishima quickly turned around and continued to his own house, pressing his headphones over his ears. He didn’t want to go, but he couldn’t get the image of Yamaguchi’s soft smile out of his head. He had already planned it out; he’d go home and claim to feel sick. Tsukishima was a slight germaphobe and normally very healthy, so he didn’t get sick often. And with the volleyball camp coming up, his parents would want him to stay home and rest up.

 _But,_ that stupid, traitorous voice in his head said, _he’s looking forward to it._

But that didn’t matter.

_I’m not going._

_I’m not going._

_I’m not going._

He was in front of Yamaguchi’s house.

He was in jeans and a Karasuno sweatshirt. His mom had begged him to wear something nicer, but he refused. He said it was his best friend’s house and he could wear whatever he wanted. She’d been disappointed, but eventually relented. She was probably relieved he had even agreed to go.

Akiteru nudged Tsukishima. They wanted him to ring the doorbell, since it was his best friends house. He was sure Yamaguchi was going to answer the door, since his best friend’s family was visiting. He could feel Akiteru watching him, waiting to see how he would act with Yamauguchi. _Natural. Act natural._

He rang the doorbell. Nothing happened for one second, then two, then three. Then the door swung open. “Tsukki.”

Yamaguchi had, in fact, answered the door, wearing an outfit similar to his own. He smiled at Tsukishima the same way he had earlier that day; it occurred to him he hadn’t seen Yamaguchi’s broad smile in a while. “Come in,” Yamaguchi said, opening the door wider. “My parents are still cooking, sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Tsukishima’s parents said, entering the house. Akiteru followed, and then Tsukishima entered as well. His parents and Akiteru removed their shoes and padded into the living room, leaving Tsukishima and Yamaguchi alone in the entryway. He could hear broken chatter floating in from the kitchen and living room, but he was focused entirely on the boy in front of him.

“I’m glad you came, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said. “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Tsukishima asked, as if he had never planned to skip the event.

“I don’t know,” Yamaguchi said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tsukishima chided, taking his shoes off. He didn’t want to join his family in the living room, so he slowly took his shoes off, savoring the alone time he had with Yamaguchi. He loved it and hated it at the same time; it was like a brilliant mixture of fire and water, both searing hot and blindingly cool. He could get lost in the sensation.

“I’m not being stupid,” Yamaguchi replied. He kicked at the floor. “It feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Tsukishima replied. He was staring at his socks and praying Yamaguchi wouldn’t see through the lie.

“If you are, it’s okay,” Yamaguchi said, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. It was a little too big for him. It was adorable. “I mean, it’s not that I want you to avoid me. But if you didn’t want to come, I’d understand.”

“Shut up,” Tsukishima said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi mumbled, looking down.

Tsukishima knew he was acting unfairly towards Yamaguchi, he couldn’t stop himself. He was stuck at a dinner party with his best friend’s family. He was stuck with a crush on his best friend. Worst of all, his best friend was totally oblivious to how he really felt. Of course he wanted to spend time with him. He never wanted to stop spending time with him; every second with Yamaguchi was precious time, stolen from a future version of Tsukishima who would surely curse his past self. When he was with Yamaguchi, it hit him how much he never wanted to leave his side. It scared him how all his common sense was out the window when it came to Yamaguchi.

“I thought we were supposed to be friends, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi continued, eyes still on the floor. Tsukishima tensed up and prepared for another difficult talk, which was really all they ever did these days. “You’re being so weird.”

“Let’s not do this,” Tsukishima said.

“Then when are we going to do this?”

“Not at a dinner party, maybe?”

“You’ll just keep brushing me off! You never talk to me anymore.”

“We talk all the time, stupid.”

Yamaguchi hugged himself, his arms wrapping around his torso like they could protect him from Tsukishima’s harsh words. “But we don’t really talk. It’s all…superficial, I guess.”

“Who cares?” Yamaguchi’s arms couldn’t protect him from the cut of Tsukishima’s words, lightning fast and razor sharp. They could make quick work of him. “Our conversations have always been like that.”

“No, they haven’t!” Yamaguchi’s raised his voice, and Tsukishima could hear the voices in the living room falter for a second. “We used to really talk.”

Tsukishima had to fight to keep his tone airy and disinterested. “Not really. It’s not my fault you read so much into it.”

There were the razors, slicing right past Yamaguchi’s arms and cutting straight into his chest. His face fell, his shoulders slumping, and he muttered, “But you’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Tsukishima crossed his arm. “That doesn’t mean every conversation we have has to be meaningful.”

Yamaguchi’s face hardened. “Just because nothing you do is meaningful doesn’t mean it’s the same for me.”

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. You might not find meaning in these things, but I do.”

Tsukishima could feel rage boiling inside him, whipping around in his chest and head like a whirlwind. Did Yamaguchi think he didn’t see any meaning in their relationship? He saw too much meaning; that was his problem. One day, he felt Yamaguchi’s gentle touch and saw too much meaning and he’d never been the same since. What did Yamaguchi know about any of that?

“I do find meaning in things.” It was now a struggle to keep his voice even. “Just because it’s not in the same things as you—”

“Because it’s not in me!” Yamaguchi gestured wildly at his chest. “Do I mean nothing to you?”

“I never said that!” His voice was mounting into a yell, but he didn’t care. One of Yamaguchi’s greatest flaws was that he felt too much, and that was something Tsukishima had never been able to understand. Yamaguchi felt like he was meaningless to Tsukishima, and he was wrong, but Tsukishima could never properly explain that to him because Yamaguchi felt too much and Tsukishima felt too little.

“Then what did you say? That all the conversations we have are meaningless? What’s the difference?”

“There is a difference!”

“Then what is it?”

They were both shouting. Tsukishima could feel cruel words pounding around in his head and bubbling up in his throat. It burned like acid to keep them down, and it would burn like acid to let them out.

“Shut up! This is so pointless!”

“Is this pointless, or am I pointless?”

"This is why all our conversations are meaningless!”

A sudden silence fell over them. They stared at each other, chests heaving, the words that hung between them palpable in the air. Tsukishima wished he had stayed at home.

Yamaguchi’s mom poked her head into the entryway, as if she was afraid to enter the blast zone. “Uh, boys? Dinner’s ready.”

Yamaguchi broke eye contact first, glancing over at his mom. “Thanks, mom.” She nodded and scampered back to the kitchen, where everyone else was waiting, probably wide-eyed after the yelling match they’d overheard. Tsukishima dreaded the scolding he was going to get from his parents back home.

Yamaguchi didn’t look back at Tsukishima; he kept his eyes glued to the ground. “You’re my best friend, Tsukki,” he mumbled. “I just wish it meant something to you.”

Tsukishima didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say anything. Instead, he pushed past him into the kitchen, and Yamaguchi trailed after him like always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finals are over!!!! hurray! that means more updates! i am hoping i'll be able to use this christmas break as a chance to get to the really good stuff ;)  
> big thanks to the writing gc for helping me out and encouraging me! and thank you to everyone who reads and comments and leaves kudos, it means a lot to me <3


	7. dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "look at the light through the windowpane. that means it's noon, that means we're inconsolable." -richard silken

Dinner was incredibly awkward. 

Yamaguchi’s parents sat to his right. At his left was Tsukki, who was silently eating his food and radiating anger, and on Tsukki’s left was the rest of his family. They were keeping up a steady stream of small talk, and everyone silently agreed to pretend they hadn’t heard the argument.

Yamaguchi was staring at his plate, picking slowly at his food and praying no one would take notice of the small tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He and Tsukki had argued. Tsukki had yelled at him, and while Tsukki never called Yamaguchi pointless, he never told him he wasn’t.

He was feeling very down, and listening to his parents muse about the weather was not helping.

He could feel someone watching him, and knew without looking up it was Tsukki’s brother. He didn’t want him to see his pathetic tears, so he kept his head down and ate piece after piece of his meal, discreetly trying to make his tears go away.

He didn’t understand how he felt about Tsukki. He had an unquenchable desire to be acknowledged by him; he wanted Tsukki to notice him and praise him and tell him that he was exactly what he needed Yamaguchi to be doing. That was not in Tsukki’s nature, but that did nothing to satiate Yamaguchi’s longing.

But there was also something more to it. There was something that nagged at Yamaguchi, but every time he tried to grab the thought and draw it closer to him, it disappeared and left him with a sense that he was missing the bigger picture. Whatever this feeling was, it was what caused these tears when Tsukki yelled at him. Whatever it was, Yamaguchi didn’t want it anymore.

He wanted Tsukki, in some form. What form that was, he didn’t know.

He was vaguely aware of the conversation around him, but was hyperaware of every little movement from Tsukki. He noticed when he took a bite of food and when he shifted in his seat. He noticed when Tsukki cast a small glance at him.

Yamaguchi felt his heartbeat in his throat and didn’t think he couldn’t eat anymore. If he opened his mouth to take another bite, his heart would leap from his throat onto his plate for everyone to see; all of his dream and wishes etched into the veins.

He heard someone mention volleyball and he looked up.

“Yeah, they have that volleyball camp up in Tokyo soon,” Tsukki’s mom was saying, smiling a little too widely. “It’s exciting. It’s Kei’s first time being away from home for so long.”  
Tsukki pushed the food around on his plate a little more aggressively, but didn’t reply and didn’t look up. His brother was trying desperately to make eye contact with him.

“Same with Tadashi,” Yamaguchi’s mother agreed. “He’s so excited. He’s been practicing non-stop!”

“Mom,” Yamaguchi muttered weakly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tsukishima glance at him again.

His mom ignored him and continued, “He wants to be on the starting lineup soon.”

“Mom,” Yamaguchi whined, a little louder this time.

“He’s the only freshman that isn’t a starter,” Tsukki said.

Everyone around the table fell silent. Yamaguchi gaped at Tsukki in shock. He hadn’t mentioned to his parents that he was the only freshman that had to sit on the sidelines. When they asked, he simply said he wanted to be a starter soon. To have Tsukki, of all people, point it out stung more than when he’d first been left off.

“Kei,” Akiteru scolded. “That’s rude.”

“What? It’s true.” Tsukki looked back down at his plate and ate some more food.

Akiteru looked over at Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi flushed and quickly said, “Ah, it’s okay! He’s right. That’s why I’m practicing so hard.”

Yamaguchi’s mom sensed it was an uncomfortable topic and launched into a discussion about just how hard Yamaguchi was practicing. Yamaguchi looked back at his food, his face flushed with shame. It was embarrassing enough to be the only freshman left out, but to have Tsukki be the one to tell his family was even more humiliating.

He glanced up and made eye contact across the table with Akiteru. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Yamaguchi had no idea what it could be. Akiteru glanced over at Tsukki, then back at Yamaguchi. Thoroughly confused, Yamaguchi shrugged slightly at Akiteru and went back to eating his food. 

Again, Yamaguchi’s thoughts turned to his argument with Tsukki in the entryway. It was unfair; he’d expressed to Tsukki how he really felt and he’d pretty much told him to shut up. What Yamaguchi really wanted was an apology.

But he knew he would never get one, because Tsukki never apologized for anything. In middle school, Yamaguchi had once asked him why. He had replied, “You apologize if you’re wrong. I’m not.” It was a conceited and proud reason, which is why it made so much sense for Tsukki. Yamaguchi had never heard him apologize once, even when he hurt someone’s feelings. Even if that someone was Yamaguchi.

They were still talking about volleyball. Yamaguchi wanted to listen, if only to hold back the flood of sad thoughts threatening to flow out of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus.

Tsukki was never wrong. That’s why he never apologized. In that case, wouldn’t it be Yamaguchi who was in the wrong? Somewhere along the lines, he had pushed too far and made Tsukki mad. It was Yamaguchi who needed to apologize to Tsukki, as always.

Yamaguchi wished he was less pathetic. If he was, he’d never have argued with Tsukki in the first place. If he was less of a screw-up, would Tsukki acknowledge him? Would Tsukki praise him and tell him he was proud of him? Or would Tsukki give him the cold shoulder, just like he did now?

Yamaguchi didn’t know. But he did know he owed Tsukki an apology.

He forced his mind back to the conversation at hand. It was somehow still on volleyball; he prayed they would find a new topic soon.

“Tadashi is practicing…what is it called, Tadashi? A jump float serve?”

“Yeah,” Yamaguchi mumbled back.

“Jump float serves! He gets practice from someone who used to play on the Karasuno team. He’s always practicing outside of school.”

“Kei never practices outside of school,” Akiteru said. “He could learn a thing or two from Tadashi.”

Apparently that was the last straw for Tsukki; he pushed his chair out, bowed slightly, mumbled, “Bathroom,” and stalked out of the room, going the opposite direction of the bathroom. Everyone stared at his seat; shock, confusion, and in Akiteru’s case, frustration, was written across their faces.

Yamaguchi jumped up, bowed to his parents and Tsukki’s, and raced after him. 

Yamaguchi made it to the hallway just in time to see Tsukki disappear up the stairs. Yamaguchi followed after him, softly calling out, “Tsukki!”

Tsukki did not turn back. He continued up the stairs, and Yamaguchi followed. Yamaguchi finally caught up with him by his own room. “Tsukki.” Tsukki would not look at him, and Yamaguchi did not know what to say to him. In the dim light of the hallway, Tsukki’s harsh lines disappeared and he looked so soft and fragile, as if one stray word could shatter him into pieces. But Yamaguchi knew that looks were deceiving, and if Yamaguchi attempted to be gentle Tsukki would cut him with his razor sharps words and deeds and leave Yamaguchi bleeding on the ground.

“This dinner party was a bad idea,” Tsukki mumbled, still turned away from Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi had liked the idea, but he still replied, “I know.”

Tsukki scoffed and said, “Don’t just say that to make me happy.”

He knew Yamaguchi so well. He leaned against the wall next to Tsukki and said, “Okay. Sorry.” The two stayed silent for a moment before Yamaguchi continued, “And I’m sorry about before.”

Tsukki shrugged. It was not acceptance, merely an acknowledgement. Yamaguchi continued, “I know you don’t think I’m pointless. Right, Tsukki?”

Tsukki glanced over at Yamaguchi. He hesitated for a second before replying, “You’re not pointless. You’re my friend.”

The hesitation and the use of the term friend instead of best friend were like knives in Yamaguchi’s chest, but he smiled and said, “I guess I just let my insecurities get the better of me.”

Tsukki looked away from Yamaguchi again. “You need to work on that.”

“I know.” Another knife to the chest.

They lapsed into silence again. Yamaguchi labored to breath under the pain of the wounds in his chest. Tsukki breathed easy, not knowing the damage he inflicted.

Finally, Tsukki said, “We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends.”

Another knife; one that surprised Yamaguchi. Why did that statement hurt so much?

_Oh,_ he thought, _because I’m not his best friend. I’ll just stay a friend._

That was okay. He would struggle against the knives in his chest day after day if it meant he could be a part of Tsukki’s life, best friend or not. Tsukki meant the world to him; he would not lose him so easily.

Tsukki raised his fist for a fist bump, and Yamaguchi lightly tapped his against it. Tsukki sighed and moved away from the wall. “We should go back.”

“Yeah.” Yamaguchi’s head was buzzing, and he couldn’t really focus. Blood flowed from the chasms in his chest. Tsukki trodded over the blood he had let flow and disappeared down the stairs, leaving Yamaguchi to try to stem the flow.

Surprisingly, he felt real pain in his chest, but it was nothing like a stab wound. It was more like a weight that he couldn’t get rid of.

He returned to his seat. Tsukki was already sitting down and had joined the conversation. Yamaguchi did the same and the group chatted for the rest of the night, but Tsukki and Yamaguchi never directly acknowledging each other. Another hour or two passed, and it was time for the Tsukishima family to leave.

They gathered at the entryway and said their goodbyes. The last was between Tsukki and Yamaguchi. Tsukishima’s parents went outside to wait. Yamaguchi’s parents headed back into the kitchen to begin cleaning. Akiteru stood in the doorway, watching the two boys closely. Tsukki cast an irritated glance at Akiteru, but the older boy ignored it.

Tsukki turned back to Yamaguchi. His face was an unreadable mask; Yamaguchi had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. After years of being his best friend, Yamaguchi could typically tell what Tsukki was thinking. But in that entryway, in the same spots they’d had their argument, Tsukki was an enigma; unknowable and untouchable in every possible way.

Tsukki shoved his hands into his pockets, nodded at Yamaguchi, and said, “See you later.” Yamaguchi didn’t know what to say, so he nodded back, raising one hand in a silent wave. Tsukishima pushed past Akiteru and went out the door. Akiteru cast one last strange glance at Yamaguchi before following.

Yamaguchi helped his parents clean up the mess from dinner. They tried to make small talk, but when Yamaguchi didn’t reply, they left him alone. Once they were finished cleaning, Yamaguchi hung around until his parents weren’t paying attention, then slipped upstairs and into his room.

When his door shut behind him, he slumped against it and sighed. The weight on his chest did not budge. Part of him wanted to cry, but no tears would flow. All he could do was sigh again and try to dislodge the weight from his chest.

Slowly, he made his way to his bed. He flopped down on it, fully clothed, and covered his face with his hands. What had he done to make Tsukki treat him like this?

He had to have done something. His attempts to talk to Tsukki about it had failed, and he was no closer than before to discovering the source of Tsukki’s indifference. It was the indifference hurt the most; if it was anger, Yamaguchi could have retaliating with his own anger, but he could not be indifferent towards Tsukki.

He sighed, sliding his hands down his face. Maybe he really was nearing the end of his friendship with Tsukki.

_Well,_ he thought, _if that’s what Tsukki wants, it’s okay._

It was just another knife in his chest, but Yamaguchi didn’t know how much more he could take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe hope you all like this chapter! next chapter might be a little short but we're finally about to get to some good stuff!!!!!!!!!!!!!! love u all mwah mwah mwah <3


	8. feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "there were some nice parts, sure, all lemondrops and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas and the grains of sugar on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number." -richard silken

The training camp at Tokyo had arrived, and Tsukishima was already wishing the week would end.

He thought there would be actual training, but they were told that came much later in the day. Instead, it was one grueling match after another. The loser of every match had to run up a steep hill outside of the gym. It didn’t look bad at first, but after running up the hill a few times you dread ever having to do it again.

Karasuno was trying to get their bearings and perfect their high-level moves. Their main attack, the freak fast attack from Hinata and Kageyama, hadn’t worked since they’d started the camp. Those two had gotten the idea that they could improve it so Hinata had more freedom when in air, but it was failing miserably and had put a serious strain on their relationship. With so many new plays in motion and such strong opponents from powerhouse schools, they ended up on that hill a lot.

The person it affected most, however, was Yamaguchi. For him, every run seemed to get harder and harder than the last. Tsukishima couldn’t figure out why; his endurance was on par with that of the rest of the team, and he hardly played in any of the games. Whenever Tsukishima asked about it, Yamaguchi brushed it off and said he was still warming up. But at the end of the day, when they’d run up that hill after every match they played, the excuse began to wear thin.

Finally, the constant stream of games stopped and they reached the free training period. Groups split off to work on individual techniques and work with people more talented to perfect their moves. Tsukishima watched a little from the sidelines, waiting to stop sweating, but he had no intention of joining. 

Yamaguchi, on the other hand, had joined the group of people practicing their serves. Tsukishima pretended he was not watching him. Despite all of his struggling today, he still attempted serve after serve, and received serves from others. But he hadn’t played much; he could still very easily have lots of stamina left.

His gaze switched to Asahi, who was trying his best to perfect his jump serve. Asahi had played in every game, yet he still was training. And so was Daichi and Tanaka, and even Hinata and Kageyama had run off somewhere, probably to practice their quick attack separately.

Tsukishima’s eyes drifted back to Yamaguchi, like they always did. Yamaguchi wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm and spun the ball in his hands. He threw the ball up and hit it, but it didn’t go very far before losing momentum and hitting the ground. Even from a distance, Tsukishima could see Yamaguchi groan.

He was working so hard. Everyone was working so hard.

It was so damn stupid. It was just a club.

Tsukishima wasn’t even sure if he still wanted to play volleyball. He’d only joined the club at Karasuno because it was what his family expected of him. He’d only kept playing for so long because he was a half-decent middle blocker. And now, Hinata had stolen that title from him, jumping so high there was no way Tsukishima could ever dream of reaching him. He was only a starter because he was the tallest on the team. 

Tsukishima grabbed his stuff and slung it over his shoulder. It was a waste of time being there any longer. He was exhausted after a long day of matches. He would go grab dinner, go shower, and be asleep before anyone got back from their individual practice.

After sneaking one last glance at Yamaguchi, he stepped out into the cool night air. It was refreshing after a long day of hot, grueling matches. Slowly, he made his way to the dining hall.

_This is stupid. It’s just a club. This is stupid. It’s just a club._

He repeated that to himself for the rest of the night, until he was lying alone in the Karasuno room, drifting off to sleep. It was then, in a stupor of half-consciousness, that he admitted to himself it was quite lonely being the only person on the Karasuno team who felt that way. Then he fell asleep.

He assumed he would be the first one up, but it was Daichi who was up first and woke him up. He shook Tsukishima awake and said something about breakfast that Tsukishima wasn’t awake enough to understand. He groaned and groped around next to him for his glasses, then slipped them out and sat up while Daichi moved on.   
He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes while he looked around the room. It had been empty when he’d laid down last night, but now it was full of groggy teenagers waking up for another hot day of long, losing matches.

Tsukishima grabbed his bag and stood up. He made his way to the bathroom, stretching on his way there. _Let’s get this over with._

After getting ready, he made his way to the dining hall to get breakfast. His traitorous thoughts drifted to Yamaguchi and how he’d looked last night when he was serving. He thought about how the bright lights in the gym made his hair shine and how intensely he concentrated on his serves. He thought about his legs and his hands and his sweet face.

He faltered and stopped. _Fuck._ His feelings weren’t going anywhere, despite his best efforts. He could feel stifling panic rising up in his throat at the mere acknowledgment of how he felt for his best friend. It was unbearable, and for a split-second, he thought that if he told Yamaguchi how he felt, things wouldn’t feel as impossible.

He shut the thoughts up and continued walking.

He was the first Karasuno member at breakfast, so he sat down at an empty table and began eating. Slowly, the rest of the team filled in around him, until everyone was there—except one.

“Where’s Yamaguchi?” Nishinoya asked, his mouth stuffed full of food. “Is he still sleeping?” Some food sprayed onto Tsukishima’s tray and he flinched, pulling it away. “Sorry, Tsukishima.”

“I don’t know,” Daichi said. “He was really tired yesterday, so I thought I’d let him sleep more. I told Asahi to wake him up when he was done getting ready.”

Everyone turned to look at Asahi, who jumped in his seat and looked down sheepishly. “Sorry, Daichi. I forgot.”

Suga punched Asahi in the arm, who yelped in protest. The rest of the team began yelling, either defending Asahi or agreeing with Suga. Daichi shook his head and turned to Tsukishima, “Could you go wake him up?”

He could, but he didn’t want to. “Why me?” Tsukishima asked, picking at his food.

The rest of the team was too busy yelling and arguing to notice their private conversation. “You’re his best friend,” Daichi said, in a tone that said his reason should have been obvious.

Tsukishima’s face twitched in displeasure before he quickly smoothed it out. Still, he was sure Daichi had seen it. “Fine,” he replied. He hastily stood up and stalked out of the dining hall before Daichi could ask him what was wrong.

On his way to the room, he cursed himself for making a face. It had been an unconscious movement; his heart’s way of proclaiming how he wished they could be more. But would Daichi see it that way? Or would he, like Yamaguchi, think that Tsukishima didn’t like him anymore?

He reached the room and gently opened the door. Sure enough, next to Tsukishima’s stuff, Yamaguchi was lying on the floor, still asleep. He was snoring quietly and drooling on his pillow which he clutched in his arms like a child. His face was relaxed; a far cry from how it usually looked these days.

Tsukishima shut the door behind him and crept over to where Yamaguchi lay. He crouched down on the floor next to him and reached a hand out to shake him awake. Yamaguchi snored a little louder and snuggled into the pillow. His hair was splayed out behind him. Inches from Yamaguchi’s face, Tsukishima stopped, his hand hanging in the air.

He couldn’t deny his feelings. He liked Yamaguchi. There was simply no getting around that.

He reached out and brushed his fingers against Yamaguchi’s fringe. He stirred a little, and in surprised Tsukishima pulled his hand back. But Yamaguchi settled back in and kept sleeping, so Tsukishima reached out again and softly ran his fingers down Yamaguchi’s jawline.

He was beautiful in a way no other man could be. To Tsukishima, there was only Yamaguchi. Everyone else in the world paled in his radiant light. Yamaguchi was his every thought and desire; he was the moon and the stars. No one else could make him feel this way.

His hand stopped, his fingers on Yamaguchi’s chin, next to his lips. The rush of joy that he got from the feel of Yamaguchi’s skin underneath his fingers had made his head foggy; he couldn’t think straight. He knew that was he was doing was dangerous, and probably creepy, but he couldn’t help himself anymore. He moved his hand and reached for Yamaguchi’s lips, slowly, praying the other boy wouldn’t wake up.

He stopped himself centimeters from Yamaguchi’s soft lips, his hand hovering right above them. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself if he did.

He pulled his hand back, away from Yamaguchi’s face and back to safety, and nudged Yamaguchi. “Wake up.”

“Huh?” Yamaguchi slowly pried his eyes open, squinting against the light, and mumbled, “Tsukki?”

“Wake up,” Tsukishima repeated, nudging him again. “You’re going to miss breakfast.”

Yamaguchi mumbled something incoherent and sat up, rubbing at his face. Tsukishima could still feel his warm skin on his fingertips. He wondered how he’d react if he touched him in the same way now; would he jump away in disgust? Or would he react the way he did in Tsukishima's wildest dreams; would he lean in and sigh and tell Tsukishima that he'd always been in love with him?

He told his wildest dreams to shut up. He pulled himself off the ground and said, “Hurry. Matches start soon.”

Yamaguchi nodded and started sitting up. “Did I miss breakfast?”

“No, but you’re going to if you don’t hurry up.”

“Can you save some for me?”

“No.”

“Please, Tsukki?” He rubbed his eyes and looked at Tsukishima pleadingly. Tsukishima felt his heart soar in his chest and drop into his stomach. How could he say no to such a beautiful boy?

“Fine,” Tsukishima mumbled.

Yamaguchi grinned at him, with his bright, wide smile, and it took Tsukishima’s breath away. He hadn’t seen Yamaguchi smile like that in a while. He’d missed it so much.

“I’m going back,” Tsukishima said. He hoped Yamaguchi didn’t take notice of the red dusting across his face.

“Okay,” Yamaguchi mumbled, rifling through his bag. “I’ll see you down there.”

Tsukishima left him, his heart pounding in his chest. Things had gone well—it was like back to normal, back before Tsukishima had realized these feelings he had.

He thought about his tactic of pushing Yamaguchi away. Was it working, or was it just ruining their current relationship? If he ever got over his feelings, would he even have a friendship to go back to?

One thing was for sure: Tsukishima, despite his best efforts, still liked Yamaguchi. And pushing him away was so painful, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe if my chapters titles were longer than one word this one would be "the calm before the storm"  
> i swear i have been looking forward to writing this next chapter since i started this fic i am so READY  
> be prepared  
> <3 <3 <3 okey bye


	9. pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it." -richard silken

Tsukishima nearly made it through day two of the training camp without event. When evening came, he got roped into practicing his blocks with some Fukurodani and Nekoma players. He hadn't been interested, but they’d practically grabbed him as he walked by and harassed him until he joined them.

He supposed it was good blocking practice, but he didn’t really accomplish much. As it turned out, Kuroo from Nekoma was a much better middle blocker than he was. One could say it was because he was a third year, but Tsukishima figured it was because Kuroo actually cared about volleyball.

Bokuto and Akaashi, from Fukurodani, were an impressive duo. Akaashi’s sets were perfect for Bokuto, and Bokuto was a strong spiker. He was a little desensitized to crazy fast attacks due to Karasuno’s own duo, but he still had to admit that they were very talented. That only made Kuroo’s blocks all the more impressive. Tsukishima hardly did anything, but at the end of the night he was one of the last people to the Karasuno room and was sweatier than he’d been all week.

He took his shower quickly and went to bed immediately, but he stayed up for almost another hour, staring at the ceiling, thinking about volleyball and listening to Yamaguchi’s steady breathing next to him. When he drifted off to sleep, he dreamt about Kuroo and Bokuto, and he missed his dreams of Yamaguchi.

Day three of the training camp was much like day two. They woke up (Daichi made sure Yamaguchi was up this time), ate breakfast, and played several matches. They lost every single one, and by the end of the day, all Tsukishima wanted to do was take a shower and go to sleep. He was exhausted after hours of losing match after match. He thought about Kuroo and Bokuto, and prayed they wouldn’t ask him to join them again. He just wanted to go to sleep, and maybe to not have to be at the stupid camp anymore.

He and Yamaguchi were leaned against a wall, watching the teams split off for individual practice. He knew Yamaguchi would leave soon to join in, so he wanted to silently enjoy the time they had left. Daichi, however, had other plans.

“Tsukishima,” he called out, approaching them, “why don’t you join us tonight?”

He pretended to think it over for a second, then replied, “No thanks. I’d rather just take a shower and go to bed.”

“Didn’t you practice with some people from Nekoma last night?” Sugawara asked, popping up at Daichi’s shoulder.

Tsukishima shrugged. “And Fukurodani, yeah. But I don’t think I’m going to do it again.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hinata rage jealously at him. He sent a smirk back, and Hinata stuck his tongue out in reply.

“You should practice with us, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said gently, tearing his attention away from Hinata. “It could be fun.”

Tsukishima slapped on a sarcastic smile, shrugged again, and grabbed his stuff off the floor. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” Before anyone else could protest, he left the gym and started making his way back to the room.

Away from the rest of the team, he let the smug smile drop from his face. Their pushing and prodding, their constant push for him to work harder, made him uncomfortable. Volleyball was just a club. A hobby. It was a waste of time to work so hard for something so meaningless.

His brother had done the same thing, and the only thing he got was three years’ experience sitting on the bench.

Now, Tsukishima was on the court, but he didn’t care to try. He didn’t want to end up like Akiteru; he didn’t want to pour everything he had into something and be left empty.  
“Tsukki!”

He turned around to see Yamaguchi running towards him; his eyes flicked down and he noticed Yamaguchi was limping as he ran. How long had he been doing that for? He stopped walking and turned around to face the boy.

Tsukki skidded to a stop in front of him, his chest heaving. Tsukishima wondered if he’d run the whole way to catch up to him. What could be so important? “What do you want?”

Yamaguchi placed his hands on his knees and gasped for air. Tsukishima pursued his lips and waited for him to catch his breath. He wanted to know what he had to say. Somewhere deep in his mind, he wondered if Yamaguchi was going to confess his love to him. Tsukishima suppressed that thought; it would not happen. Yamaguchi was probably going to beg for Tsukishima to go back and keep practicing with them.

Without looking up, Yamaguchi said, “Tsukki, you’ve always been able to do anything while looking cool and smart. I’ve always been jealous.”

That was not where he had expected this to go. He had expected Yamaguchi to beg him to join them and practice some more, and he would say no and they’d go on their separate ways. He wasn’t expecting to have another deep talk, and he didn’t want one; it would undoubtedly lead to another argument.

Tsukishima had nothing else to say, so he simply replied, “And?”

Yamaguchi looked up and shouted, “But lately, you’re being lame, Tsukki!” Irritation flashed through Tsukishima, a red-hot bullet through his chest. “Hinata might become the next Little Giant someday. So what? That just means you have to beat him! Grow stronger and prove that you’re a better player than him!”

Tsukishima wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of him was proud that Yamaguchi had finally grown a backbone and was sticking up for something, even if that something was a stupid volleyball club. 

At the same time, he was irritated that Yamaguchi called him lame. Tsukishima was many things, but lame had never been one of them. Yamaguchi in middle school was lame. Tsukishima now was not. 

He was also upset that Yamaguchi had admitted that Hinata was better than him. He’d hoped that Yamaguchi’s reverence for Tsukishima had blinded him to Hinata’s superiority, but obviously not. 

Past his indecisive emotions, there was also a part of him that was intensely attracted to Yamaguchi at that moment. Something about his intense gaze, coupled with the sweat that still dripped down his face and his cheeks still flushed from his sprint to catch up with Tsukishima, drove him crazy.

Yamaguchi continued, “You’re tall, you’re smart, and you’re really good at volleyball. Why aren’t you trying to get any better?”

Yamaguchi finally stopped, chest still heaving. The irritated part of Tsukishima won out; who was Yamaguchi to yell at him about getting better? Yamaguchi had no idea what he was talking about.

Tsukishima scoffed and said, “There’s no point. Even if I was the best on our team, what happens after that? If we make it to nationals, what happens after that? There’s always going to be someone better.” His voice rose to a shout, but he was only half yelling about the topic at hand; he was also yelling about his frustrations with volleyball and his brother and his feelings about Yamaguchi, taking all of his anger out on the beautiful boy. “Even if you get better, you’ll never be the best! You’re always going to lose! You know that better than anyone, Yamaguchi, so why keep going?”

Yamaguchi moved quicker than Tsukishima could process; he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and screamed, “What else do we need besides pride?”

In that moment, all Tsukishima wanted was to be proud or impressed with Yamaguchi for standing up for himself. Instead, all he felt was red-hot anger, directed at the boy in front of him. Yamaguchi, who cried all the time, who was so pathetic he clung to Tsukishima, who was the only freshman not on the starting lineup, was calling him lame?

“What do you know about pride?” Tsukishima yelled back, shoving Yamaguchi’s hands off him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yamaguchi recoiled, pulling away from Tsukishima’s razor-sharp words, but it was too late. They had already done their damage. They cut through Yamaguchi’s armor in seconds, leaving him exposed to the harsh chill of Tsukishima’s words.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Tsukishima continued, lowering his voice. “You’ve always trailed after me. When have you ever done anything for yourself? When have you ever had any pride?”

Yamaguchi’s fists curled into balls, and for a second Tsukishima thought he was going to punch him. He prayed that he would; he wanted him to break his nose and make him bruise and bleed so he could feel one concentrated spot, one burning cesspool of rage, and he could feel that hatred at night as he lie awake thinking about Yamaguchi, worshipping Yamaguchi, wishing he could touch his soft hair and taste his sweet lips.

But Yamaguchi didn’t. He uncurled his fists and threw his hands up into the air. “I don’t get it,” he said, voice breaking. “Why are you being like this?”

Why was he being like this? As if Yamaguchi didn’t already know. It was because of him, and only him, as all things were. This whole world was about Yamaguchi Tadashi and the way he moved, and the way he looked when he slept, and the way his face lit up when he saw Tsukishima. Everything was about his voice and his hands and his freckles. It was about his bright eyes and his contagious laugh and his unwavering loyalty that combined to make the perfect person that Yamaguchi was.

Tsukishima could tell him that.

But Tsukishima was a coward, so he wouldn’t. “I’m not being like anything.”

Yamaguchi just turned away. Tsukishima hoped the conversation was over, but Yamaguchi said, “You’ve been like this ever since middle school.”

“Don’t,” Tsukishima said. He did not want to talk about middle school.

“Why not?” Yamaguchi said, turning back around. He no longer looked pathetic and pitiable; there was fire in his eyes. “You never want to talk about anything!”

“Just shut up!”

“Ever since middle school—”

“Stop!”

“Ever since your brother, you’ve been like this!”

“Shut up!” Tsukishima yelled. “Stop talking about my brother!”

Yamaguchi knew better than to bring up Akiteru. He had never been able understand how Tsukishima felt, seeing his brother on the sidelines of that match, but he’d always tried. Eventually, he realized that it was futile to try and understand, so he’d moved on. He understood that it pained Tsukishima and he understood not to talk about it.

So why was he bringing it up now?

“What are you so afraid of?” Yamaguchi yelled back. “Why don’t you care about volleyball?”

Yamaguchi could never understand what it had been like. Someone like him couldn’t understand the pain of your hero lying to you. Yamaguchi had been there with him that day, but he’d really been miles away; they had been separated by a mindset that had been thrust upon Tsukishima. One that he still labored under the weight of.

“Are you out of your damn mind? It’s just a club!” A terrible part of him, one that burned with rage, wanted to hurt Yamaguchi. But he could not do it; even through the dense fog of anger that had settled on his brain, he knew he’d never forgive himself if he did.

“You don’t care about anything, Tsukki.” Yamaguchi’s voice had gone soft again, and pity laced his words. It only made Tsukishima angrier. “Why don’t you care about anything anymore? Your brother, your friends—”

“What friends?”

“The team!”

“They aren’t my friends.”

“You don’t have any other friends because you’re like this!” He motioned at Tsukishima as a whole, as if by existing he had committed a grave sin; as if he should be ashamed of the person he was.

Tsukishima was shaking with rage. He wanted to hit Yamaguchi, but at the same time he didn’t; he wanted to be here, with Yamaguchi, but he wanted to be alone. And that idiotic part of his brain, the part that was dangerously enamored with Yamaguchi, wanted to kiss him. Like always.

He turned away from Yamaguchi. “I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not!” Yamaguchi pulled on his arm and whirled him around; they were now face to face and very close. “I just want to talk to you, Tsukki.”

“If you wanted to talk,” Tsukishima snarled, “then you wouldn’t have started out by insulting me.”

“I didn’t insult you!” Yamaguchi was very close to him. 

If Tsukishima looked up at the sky, he would see the moon and the stars, watching their fight from the safety of the heavens. But looking at Yamaguchi, he saw the moon twinkling sorrowfully in his eyes, and he saw stars that had come down from the sky and were dancing across his face, caressing his freckles and sticking to his skin. He was saying something, but Tsukishima could only focus on his radiance. He could write poems about Yamaguchi.

_You have the moon in your eyes and the stars on your skin. Your beauty is of another world. I want every part of the celestial being that you are._

“Are you even listening to me?”

_Oh._ Breathlessly, he replied, “No.”

Yamaguchi’s face twisted into anger, then collapsed into sadness. It killed Tsukishima to see him this way. “I just want to talk to you, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima’s anger returned in an instant, burning brighter than it had before. “About what?” Tsukishima pushed all sappy thoughts of poetry from his mind and shoved Yamaguchi. He stumbled and stopped a few feet away. “About how I don’t have any friends? About how don’t try hard enough? What do you want from me, Yamaguchi?”

“I…I just wanted…” Yamaguchi trailed off, looking away. “Tsukki, I just want you to talk to me.”

“Then say something worth talking about.”

Ever since Tsukishima had discovered his feelings for Yamaguchi, a chasm had been growing between them. They had held tightly to each other, trying desperately to keep the chasm from tearing them apart. Now, the chasm had grown wider and they had been ripped apart; one of them had let go, and Tsukishima was not sure if it had been him or Yamaguchi.

Tsukishima’s wish had finally been granted.

So why did it hurt so bad?

A hearbeat passed. “I’m leaving,” Tsukishima mumbled.

“Tsukki, please,” Yamaguchi begged. He did not step any closer, as if he noticed the chasm as well and knew he couldn’t cross it.

“Go back to practicing,” he spat. 

Yamaguchi called out, “Tsukki!” but Tsukishima had already begun stalking away. Part of him wanted Yamaguchi to follow him, but Yamaguchi didn’t. Tsukishima wanted to punch a wall, but he didn’t.

He went back to the Karasuno room and threw his stuff on the ground. He allowed himself one angry yell and kicked Tanaka’s pillow across the room before sinking to the ground and covering his face with his hands.

It ached so bad. This was an argument they couldn’t return from; no amount of apologies could glue the chasm back together. Yamaguchi knew better than to bring up middle school and Akiteru. He knew better than to bring up Tsukishima’s past.

_I’m not good enough for him._ Yamaguchi wanted the old Tsukishima back; not this new, cynical version. He wanted the middle school version of Tsukishima who loved his brother and loved playing volleyball and would protect Yamaguchi from bullies.

That Tsukishima was gone. He thought that Yamaguchi had gotten used to it.

_I guess not._

He got up and returned Tanaka’s pillow to where he had found it. He grabbed his bag and marched to the showers, where he took a quick shower before rushing back to the room. He got all his things in order and laid down, hoping to fall asleep before anyone else returned.

But he couldn’t fall sleep.

After almost a half hour of lying down and listening to the silence, he gave up and slid his headphones on. Even his loudest music could not drown out the din of his thoughts or erase the pain from his mind.

Slowly, the other team members started streaming in. He peeked at them once, then closed his eyes again; if they said anything to him, he didn’t hear it.

He didn’t open his eyes or acknowledge the rest of the team, and they didn’t acknowledge him. He kept his eyes shut, even when he felt Yamaguchi lay down next to him.

When he opened his eyes a little while later, it was dark. He must not have heard lights out. He turned off his music and slid his headphones off, then shut his eyes to go to sleep.

But even as the hours ticked by and the room filled with snores, he couldn’t sleep. His heart and mind felt heavy, and the more he craved sleep the more it eluded him.

“Tsukki?”

Yamaguchi was still awake. Tsukishima did not move, though he was sure Yamaguchi knew he wasn't asleep.

“Tsukki?”

He had a few options. He could have another awkward argument with Yamaguchi, but they’d end up yelling again and would wake everyone up. He could tell him that he should sleep, and that they’d talk tomorrow. 

He could kiss him.

No, he couldn’t.

He could.

“Tsukki?”

He rolled over so his back was facing Yamaguchi. He did not reply.

He heard Yamaguchi’s sharp intake of breath. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for sleep that would not come.

He heard Yamaguchi move around, and when he risked a glance behind him he saw that Yamaguchi had also turned his back to him.

Good.

He turned back around and closed his eyes. Sleep evaded him for another hour or so, in which he listened to Yamaguchi sniffle. He wondered if he was crying. He wondered if it was his fault.

He wondered if he was allowed to care.

Then, thankfully, sleep took him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally.......the scene i have been waiting for......  
> this was such a pain to write and edit but i did it!! i hope you all enjoy  
> updates will hopefully be a little more interesting from now on ;) the pain has only just begun  
> thank u all for the support and lovely comments they are very sweet and mean a lot to me <3<3


	10. hooked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ''the entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell. unfortunately, we don't have that kind of time.'' - richard silken

Tsukishima did not want the rest of the team finding out about his argument with Yamaguchi, because he knew they wouldn’t take his side.

He would be the first to admit he wasn’t the kindest to the rest of the team. Usually, Yamaguchi was right behind him, snickering at whatever disparaging comment Tsukishima had said. They were a package deal.

But now, if they noticed that Tsukishima and Yamaguchi weren’t getting along, they would probably take Yamaguchi’s side, even though it had been Yamaguchi who had yelled at Tsukishima and told him he had no friends, because Yamaguchi was generally nicer to the others. He probably considered all of them his friends.

He considered Tsukishima is his best friend, though. At least, he had.

Tsukishima wasn’t exactly sure what their relationship had become. The argument between them had been rather large, and while he wouldn’t admit it, Yamaguchi’s jab about friends had hurt his feelings.

Had it been anyone else, he would have called them an asshole and brushed it off. But it was Yamaguchi, who he liked so much it physically hurt when he thought about it, so the insults stung. It hurt to know what Yamaguchi truly thought of him.

_Maybe if you weren’t such a bad person, this wouldn’t have happened._

Tsukishima needed to stop thinking before it killed him.

He was sitting at breakfast, pretending to listen to whatever idiotic things the second years had to say. He was also trying in vain not to think about the dream he’d had, in which Yamaguchi had apologized for what he’d said, confessed his undying love, and kissed Tsukishima.

It was impossibly frustrating. He was _whipped_ for this boy, who’d told him only twelve hours earlier that he had no friends. He’d gone to sleep angry about him and then promptly dreamt of kissing him under the streetlight that was the perfect midpoint between their two houses.

Yamaguchi was the last one awake, so he was going to be the last person down for breakfast. There were two empty seats; one between Daichi and Ennoshita, and one next to Tsukishima. He didn’t know which one Yamaguchi would sit in.

If he didn’t sit next to Tsukishima, the team would realize that something had happened between them. But if he sat next to Tsukishima, he’d probably try to talk to him about their argument last night and he didn’t want to do that in front of the whole team. 

He tapped his foot anxiously against the floor, trying not to glance at the door every few seconds. He didn’t want anyone to think there was something wrong, and he especially didn’t want Daichi noticing something was wrong. Daichi had already noticed some of Tsukishima’s strange behavior, and he did not want the older boy poking into his personal business. The last thing he needed was the team captain knowing there was a fracture in Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s relationship; he couldn’t imagine what Daichi would make them do in an attempt to help.

Yamaguchi had not arrived in the cafeteria yet, so Tsukishima picked at his food and let his mind wander. Maybe Yamaguchi had been right last night. Maybe he did need to put a little more effort into volleyball. How long would he let Akiteru’s shitty decision rule his life?

And he was loathe to admit it, but Yamaguchi had been pretty cool last night. Yamaguchi had never stood up to Tsukishima before; they’d always gone with what Tsukishima wanted.

That thought made him pause. Had they really always gone with what Tsukishima wanted, all this time? No, that wasn’t fair. He did things Yamaguchi wanted to, like the sleepover.  
But what if he had said no to that? Would Yamaguchi have let him?

_Yes, he would have._

Tsukishima felt a sudden rise of guilt, but he forced it down. He couldn’t dwell on the past, and he certainly wasn’t the one who needed to feel guilty.

Still, he felt a little bad.

Picking at his food, he made up his mind and decided to go visit—ugh—Kuroo and Bokuto that night to see what they had to say about Yamaguchi’s speech from last night. If someone like Kuroo agreed, then maybe he would have to acknowledge it and do some introspection.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t look up until he heard the chair next to him squeak against the floor and Yamaguchi sat down next to him.

He looked up at Yamaguchi, and Yamaguchi looked back. Neither of them said anything. He was spellbound, looking at Yamaguchi’s warm eyes and his freckles like stars sprinkled across the cosmos of his face.

“Yamaguchi!” Tanaka cried, leaning around Tsukishima, “back me up here.”

The spell was broken. “Huh?” Yamaguchi asked, leaning around Tsukishima as well. The two chattered back and forth, but Tsukishima tuned them out and went back to his food.

He would go see Kuroo and Bokuto later. They would tell him the truth.

But he couldn’t get the image of Yamaguchi staring at him out of his mind.

He didn’t try to speak to Yamaguchi all day, and Yamaguchi didn’t try to speak to him. He was equal parts grateful and sad, but he figured it was probably for the best. He didn’t know what he would say to him. He didn’t know if he really had anything to say.

The day flew by, and when the matches finally ended, he was exhausted. Everything in him screamed for him to go back to the room and sleep, but he wanted to go talk to Kuroo and Bokuto, even if the thought pained him.

Still, he hung back against the wall, sipping his water, savoring his last few moments of peace. Just the night before, he had been standing here with Yamaguchi. What had gone wrong?

He looked at Yamaguchi, who was talking animatedly with Hinata. Really, what hadn’t gone wrong? Their whole relationship was going to shit, but he felt powerless to stop it. He wanted to do something about it, but maybe if he just let things play out, his feelings would disappear. Despite this, he couldn’t help but feel jealous of Hinata, who was getting to bask in Yamaguchi’s radiant company.

“Tsukishima!”

He resisted the urge to groan and turned to Daichi, who had begun approaching him with Suga in tow. Did they ever do anything separately?

It made him think of him and Yamaguchi, which hurt, so he stopped thinking about it.

“Do you need something?” he asked coolly, praying Daichi hadn’t noticed that he and Yamaguchi were not speaking.

Daichi seemed unphased by his cold attitude; he’d likely grown used to it. “Would you like to join us for extra training tonight?”

So Daichi had not caught on. Good. Tsukishima took another slow swing of his water. He wiped at his mouth and fiddled with his water bottle, trying to find the right words that would catch Yamaguchi’s attention. “No. I’m going to practice with Kuroo and Bokuto tonight.”

“Huh? Really?” Suga asked. “Last night you said you weren’t going to do it again.”

He had gotten the attention of the others now. Hinata looked like he was steaming with jealousy, but more importantly, Yamaguchi had a strange, unreadable expression on his face. It filled Tsukishima with excitement and guilt. He wondered if his emotions would ever stop warring over Yamaguchi.

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even Yamaguchi’s gaze was lighting all of his nerves on fire. “I guess. It doesn’t really matter, though.”

“Well, if you want to practice with them,” Daichi said with a shrug. “We’ll be here.”

Tsukishima nodded and began gathering his stuff. He knew Yamaguchi was still watching him; just knowing that gave him a rush of pleasure. Maybe it was cruel to flaunt it in his face, but he was sure Yamaguchi was doing the same with Hinata. After all, Yamaguchi was the one who said Tsukishima had no friends.

_Well,_ Tsukishima thought as he stood, his things gathering in his arms, _I’ll show him._

He headed to the gym that he was sure Kuroo and Bokuto would be in, and sure enough, they were there, setting things up for their own practice.

Akaashi was there as well, and he was the first one to notice him. “Tsukishima,” he greeted with a nod. Tsukishima nodded back, feeling a little awkward.

“Oho,” Kuroo jeered, coming over. “Tsukki came back?” The nickname Tsukki felt so strange and foreign coming out of a mouth that wasn’t Yamaguchi’s. He didn’t like it.

“He did?” Bokuto’s head popped up and his face brightened when he saw Tsukishima.

“Don’t call me Tsukki,” he crabbed, dropping his stuff on the bench.

Kuroo laughed. “Fine, Tsukishima.” He paused before continuing, “What are you doing here?”

What was he doing here? He wasn’t sure. Was he trying to make Yamaguchi jealous? Was he trying to get the others off his back about not working hard enough? Was he looking for advice about volleyball and why people cared so much about this damn club?

He decided it was probably all of the above.

He realized he had not replied, so hastily, he muttered, “I don’t know.”

He was worried they would think he was crazy, but Kuroo just slung a slender arm around Tsukishima’s shoulder and said, “Work on your blocks with me.”

He spent the rest of the night practicing with Akaashi and Bokuto, and more importantly, Kuroo. Kuroo was a good teacher and gave Tsukishima helpful blocking tips; at the end of the night, Tsukishima had managed to block Bokuto twice.

He did, however, jam his finger in the process.

Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi all walked with him to the nurse; they were babbling something about eating dinner together when Tsukishima had finishing getting his finger wrapped up. They were pretty annoying, but Tsukishima found himself enjoying their company, even if only a little bit.

They turned a corner, heading towards the cafeteria, and almost ran straight into Yamaguchi.

“Oh,” Yamaguchi said, jumping backwards. His eyes were wide with surprise. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kuroo said, his trademark easy smile gracing his features.

Yamaguchi’s gaze switched from Kuroo to Tsukishima. His eyes flicked down to Tsukishima’s hand, which was wrapped in white gauze. The tip of his finger, still a brilliant purple, peaked out of the top of the bandage. Yamaguchi opened his mouth, then closed it.

Tsukishima’s throat had gone dry. He wasn’t sure what to say. They hadn’t spoken all day, but being face to face with Yamaguchi made him realized he would trade the three people next to him to have Yamaguchi back.

“Hi, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi greeted softly.

“Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry to be in your way,” Yamaguchi said again, his eyes sliding back to Kuroo. He stepped aside and let the four move past him.

Once they had passed Yamaguchi, Kuroo looked at Tsukishima and whined, “He’s allowed to call you Tsukki, and I’m not?”

Tsukishima glanced back at Yamaguchi. He was standing still, eyes fixed on the spot Tsukishima had just been standing at. He was gripping his things tightly to his chest. He glanced up and turned around. He locked eyes with Tsukishima and he noticed that the strange, unreadable expression was back on his face. Tsukishima had the strange feeling he was looking at a stranger; someone he did not know and never would. Then the moment passed and Yamaguchi continued on his way.

He turned back around and replied, “Yes.”

“Aww, come on. Let me call you Tsukki.”

“No.”

“How about me? Can I?”

“No.”

“Aww.”

“Bokuto, did you think the answer would be any different?”

“Yes!”

Tsukishima could not stop replaying the moment with Yamaguchi in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about his expression. What did it mean?

He could figure out so many things, but Yamaguchi remained an enigma.

The rest of the training camp passed in the same way. He would wake up and eat with the team, then play all their matches. When matches were finished, he would train and eat dinner with Boktuo, Akaashi, and Kuroo. Hinata joined them once, which was annoying, and sometimes Lev, a first year from Nekoma, tagged along. It was hard work, and at times very annoying, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

He didn’t talk to Yamaguchi much. They only spoke when they needed to, and even though they sat next to each other during meals, they didn’t say anything aside from greetings and farewells. All too often, Yamaguchi got that strange look on his face, and it hurt Tsukishima to look at it. And every time Tsukishima thought about talking to Yamaguchi, trying to clear the air between them, he thought about the words Yamaguchi had shouted at him and decided against it.

On the second-to-last day of camp, Tsukishima finally resolved to ask the three about what Yamaguchi had said. 

They were setting up the gym for practice in silence. The only noise was the scuffing of shoes against the wooden floors, and Boktuo’s grunts (he was incapable of being silent). Tsukishima gathered up his courage and into the silence, he said, “Why do you guys work so hard for volleyball? I mean, it’s just a club.”

All three stopped what they were doing and looked over at him. Kuroo and Akaashi glanced at each other, but didn’t reply. Bokuto, however, cocked his head to the side and said, “What do you mean, it’s just a club?”

_I mean it’s just a stupid club. It’s the same stupid club that ruined my relationship with my brother, and now probably Yamaguchi, and it’s more trouble than it’s worth just to play a stupid game of volleyball._ “I mean it’s only a club. It’s temporary. What’s the point of putting all this energy into it?” 

Bokuto thought for a moment, tilting his head from side to side, before asking, “Tsukki, do you like volleyball?”

“Don’t call me Tsukki,” he said. Despite his and Yamaguchi’s fractured relationship, he would not let anyone else call him that. It was not a word for them; it was Yamaguchi’s, and Yamaguchi’s only.

“Tsukishima, do you like volleyball?” Akaashi echoed for Bokuto.

He did not hesitate when replying, “No, not really.”

“Well, maybe that’s because you suck at it,” Bokuto said, a big, stupid grin spreading across his face. It irritated Tsukishima just as much as his insinuation that he wasn’t good at volleyball.

Bokuto turned fully towards Tsukishima; the other two did the same. Tsukishima got the feeling they were appraising him. After a few moments of silence, Bokuto began speaking.

He talked about line shots and cross shots, and how he practiced really hard to get good at line shots so he wouldn’t get blocked anymore. Tsukishima didn’t really get how that related to him, since he was a middle blocker, not a hitter. Bokuto continued, talking about how good it felt to nail that one hit. That, he said, was the moment he got hooked on volleyball.

“I don’t really get it,” Tsukishima mumbled. He did, a little, but it felt stupid to admit. He didn’t even think someone like him could get hooked on volleyball.

“I don’t understand how you can think it’s just a club,” Bokuto said with a shrug, “but you’re not wrong. But that’s what makes it feel so good!”

Tsukishima’s confusion must have shown on his face, because Boktuo laughed and continued, “The joy you get from beating the opponent in front of you and bringing out 120% of your potential is everything. Once that moment comes for you,” he raised his hand and pointed right at Tsukishima, “you’ll be hooked on volleyball.”

Tsukishima blinked a few times. Bokuto’s words made a surprising amount of sense, considering they came from one of the strangest people Tsukishima knew. “Do you get it?” Bokuto asked.

“I think so,” Tsukishima answered, looking down at his hand. It was still bandaged from when Bokuto had jammed it, and red from a long day of blocking and spiking.

“Good,” Bokuto said. “Now, hurry up! I want to practice my cross shots now!”

Tsukishima suddenly felt very exhausted. He wanted to go lay down and think, but he did owe them for listening to him, so he stayed and practiced with the three.

At the barbeque at the end of the training camp, both Kuroo and Bokuto gave Tsukishima their phone numbers. He didn’t really want them, but they’d insisted. He took them, but hadn’t planned on texting them, until Kuroo stole his phone and sent a text to the both of them, so they could have his number. _Oh well,_ he thought. There were worse people at this camp he could have to talk to.

At least, that’s what he thought until Kuroo vowed to text him every day. Then, he thought about blocking his number. But he didn’t. He enjoyed Kuroo’s company, and even considered him a friend. Not that he would tell him that, of course.

The training camp finally came to a close, and it left Tsukishima with mixed feelings. He was leaving with more friends than he started with, but he felt like he’d lost the most important one along the way. He felt like he was on the cusp of discovering something important, like he was inches away from a huge revelation, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Yamaguchi long enough to focus on it.

He stood next to Yamaguchi as they said their goodbyes to the rest of the Tokyo teams. There was waving and tears, and Tsukishima thought all of it was much too dramatic.   
Kuroo caught his eye and grinned widely. He waved his arms through the air and yelled, “Tsukki! Text me!” Tsukishima felt his cheeks flush, and he scowled back at Kuroo. Kuroo laughed and waved at him, and Tsukishima granted him one small wave back.

He felt Yamaguchi’s eyes on him. It took everything in him to not look back.

Finally, they were able to board the bus and prepare to leave. Tsukishima climbed in and quickly crawled into a window seat. He stared at the asphalt below them and tried to get the image of Kuroo’s smile out of his head.

_Kuroo._ Not Yamaguchi, Kuroo. _Why Kuroo?_

Yamaguchi slid silently into the seat next to him. The bus was filled with aimless chatter, and Hinata had pulled one of the windows down to keep yelling at the group outside. No one was paying attention to them.

He and Yamaguchi sat stiffly next to each other, both looking at anything but each other. Tsukishima didn't know what to say. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Yamaguchi said, “I see you made some friends.”

Tsukishima had missed Yamaguchi so much during the training camp. No amount of new friends could ever replace him. But in that moment, all of that was gone, and all he felt was frustration and hurt. They hadn’t spoken in days, and his first full sentence to him was a reminder of their argument, a reminder that Tsukishima didn’t have many friends?

“Yeah,” Tsukishima replied curtly, “someone pointed out I didn’t have any, so I decided to make some.”

Yamaguchi squeezed his hands tightly on his lap and softly murmured, “Good for you.”

Tsukishima fished his headphones out of his bag and plugged them into his phone. He did not glance over at Yamaguchi as he put them over his ears and started his music. He stared determinedly out the window, trying to keep the anger he felt brewing in his stomach in check.

He did not look at Yamaguchi, but he did see his reflection in the window. He saw his shoulders sag and his head droop, but he did not turn around to comfort him.

He and Yamaguchi spent the trip back home in awkward silence. Tsukishima could see Yamaguchi glance at him every so often in the reflection of the window, but he refused to look back. He fell asleep with his head resting uncomfortably against the bus window, his mind flooded with conflicting thoughts of Kuroo and Yamaguchi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this update took so long compared to the others! i think i was so excited to get to chapter 9 that i wrote so much, i ended up burning out! thank you all for your patience!  
> i am going on a school trip in about a week, and i will be very busy before and after this trip. i will try and update once more before i leave, but more than likely the next update will be sometime in february. sorry!! :(  
> hope you all enjoy!! one last piece of advice: don't be so hard on poor Tsukki, he's really going through it :(  
> thanks for the support!!!!! means a lot to me <3


	11. break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ''but you are my nomad and i love you sideways daily.'' - richard silken

To put it in the nicest way possible, Tsukishima was fucked.

He’d finally done it. He’d put the final nail in the coffin and hammered it shut, leaving his relationship with Yamaguchi to suffocate slowly inside. He’d screwed everything up, just as he figured it all out, and the worst part was he deserved it for treating Yamaguchi so poorly for so long. What kind of best friend was he?

Tsukishima managed to get his shit together long enough to figure out that pushing Yamaguchi away wasn’t something he wanted, but he still wasn’t able to control his temper. He hadn’t gotten over their argument during the training camp, even though all of Yamaguchi’s points were correct. Tsukishima had never had a lot of friends, but he didn’t need them. He had Yamaguchi, which had always been enough for him.

He was no longer sure that he had Yamaguchi.

It had been two weeks since the training camp, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were no longer speaking. Tsukishima wanted to think they were both ignoring each other, but he knew Yamaguchi probably thought that he was doing Tsukishima a favor by staying away from him.

At this point, he missed Yamaguchi. He missed his voice. He missed his smile. He missed the way he would laugh when Tsukishima insulted Hinata. He’d gotten so used to Yamaguchi’s constant presence that his silence felt like losing a piece of himself.

And the cherry on top was the fact that Tsukishima was just as into Yamaguchi as he’d been months ago. His crush hadn’t gotten any easier to manage. In fact, it was getting even harder to deal with. Now, he was drowning in a pit of misery because he missed Yamaguchi and was too proud to say it. 

Their days were always the same. They’d walk to school in silence, go to their classes, eat lunch in silence, and go to practice in silence. There was hardly a word exchanged between the two other than “Good morning” and “See you tomorrow”. Tsukishima marveled at how it was possible to have Yamaguchi so close to him, yet so far away.

He could try reaching out. He had no doubt that was what Yamaguchi wanted him to do, but he didn’t know how. After he’d made such a mess of things, how could he reach out to Yamaguchi again? He’d already slipped through his fingers so many times, but he wasn’t sure if Yamaguchi was hard to get or if Tsukishima hadn’t tried hard enough.

He hated himself for making such a mess of things. He had everything he could have wanted in his hands and he threw it all away because of pettiness and hurt pride and love. Now Yamaguchi wouldn’t even look him in the eyes.

They changed in the club room, side by side as always, but neither spoke. Usually there would be a little banter between the two, or at least giggles from Yamaguchi as the rest of the team did something stupid. But there was nothing between the two. There hadn’t been anything in so long, Tsukishima was starting to forget what their changing room talks had been like. To save himself from the awkwardness, Tsukishima checked his phone and saw he had a new message from Kuroo. 

They had talked on and off since the training camp, though it was mostly Kuroo talking and Tsukishima sending the occasional reply. This time it was a story about something Fukunaga and Kenma had done during practice that Kuroo claimed had been the funniest thing ever. It was not the funniest thing ever, but it was entertaining enough. Tsukishima felt a reluctant smile rising on his face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Yamaguchi glance at him and quickly look away.

It was no secret that Tsukishima and Kuroo had become friends—at least, that was what Kuroo called them. Tsukishima considered him a general nuisance, but he couldn’t deny that Kuroo was okay. Sometimes. When he wanted to be, which was almost ever, but Tsukishima was okay with that. Yamaguchi, however, didn’t seem to like Kuroo. Whenever Tsukishima’s phone pinged with a new message, Yamaguchi’s face always twisted into something Tsukishima couldn’t quite decipher. But if Yamaguchi wouldn’t talk to him about it, it wasn’t his problem. 

“Come on, you two,” Daichi called from the doorway. Tsukishima set his phone down and glanced around the room. He and Yamaguchi were the only two left. How long had he been looking at his phone? “Let’s go.”

Tsukishima glanced at Yamaguchi before shoving his phone in his bag and leaving the room. Yamaguchi’s footsteps followed him out, like always. It was comforting to know that even when they weren’t talking, Yamaguchi was always behind him.

They entered the gym and joined the rest of the team, and everything was normal. They did their stretches side by side and helped one another when needed. They didn’t speak, just held each other’s legs in place and counted. It was painfully awkward, just like every other day had been.

As they switched spots and Tsukishima pressed down on Yamaguchi’s feet, he noticed the briefest hints of pain in his face. It was subtle, something only a close friend would notice. It was the slightest squint of his eyes and the set of his jaw. Tsukishima’s pride still ached, so he didn’t want to say anything, but his worry for his best friend briefly won out. “You okay?”

Yamaguchi glanced up at Tsukishima quickly before looking away. “I’m fine, Tsukki.”

Whatever. If Yamaguchi wouldn’t talk, there wasn’t much Tsukishima could do. They finished their stretches in silence.

Once stretches were finished and practice officially began, they did the same. They spent all their time together, but didn’t speak a single word. They were partners for every drill and stood together during every break. Tsukishima thought about how strange it was that they stayed together even if they wouldn’t talk, but he didn’t want to take it for granted. There was something comforting about Yamaguchi’s presence, even if he didn’t get to hear his sweet voice. Besides, who else would he hang out with? The idiot duo?

Towards the end of practice, everyone lined up for receiving drills. Tsukishima did his best to stay at the back of the line, because he hated receiving drills with a passion. Yamaguchi took the spot in front of him, his fingers laced behind his back. Tsukishima noted how adorable this was and admired his form. He was shorter than Tsukishima, but not too short. He was the perfect height for forehead kisses. This gross and sappy thought had infected Tsukishima for the longest time; he often daydreamed about how it would feel to press a tender kiss on Yamaguchi’s forehead. It also occurred to him that Yamaguchi was the perfect height to press a string of kisses along his jawbone.

He was in too deep, but he never wanted to get out.

He wasn’t sure why he didn’t try to fix things with Yamaguchi, especially when he considered how completely gone he was. He wished he knew the reason himself. He craved nothing more than the return of Yamaguchi’s undivided attention, but he didn’t trust himself to reach out anymore. Maybe he wanted Yamaguchi to reach back, so he could delude himself into thinking Yamaguchi wanted Tsukishima in his life, even though Tsukishima was so infatuated it was beginning to tear him apart.

He couldn’t get rid of his feelings, but he couldn’t embrace them. Yamaguchi was his best friend, and always would be. They would never be anything more, so he had to stop thinking about it. Instead, he thought of the little blonde girl that he was sure Yamaguchi would marry someday. Except now that he thought about it, Yachi fit that description pretty well. Maybe his real soulmate was closer than he realized. He forced his welling resentment down; it wasn’t Yachi’s fault that she was exactly Yamaguchi’s type. Maybe if Tsukishima were shorter…

Tsukishima was pulled from his thoughts as Yamaguchi jogged onto the court. Tsukishima’s frown deepened. It would be his turn next, which was annoying, but at least he could take a little comfort in watching Yamaguchi practice. The way he looked when he focused on the game was mesmerizing. 

He watched the ball go up and watched Yamaguchi dive. The ball fell a few inches from Yamaguchi’s outstretched arms and he hit the ground hard. Coach Ukai yelled something at him, and he slammed his fist against the ground before he got up and into position again. 

Tsukishima noticed his knee pads were slipping. He wanted to tell Yamaguchi to pull them up, but he couldn’t find the words. The next ball came flying through the air, and Yamaguchi stepped up to meet it. It connected this time, and he sent it in a nice arc over the net. He stumbled to the ground and landed hard with a dull grunt. Still, he got up and got into position for the next ball. His knee pad was halfway off his knee and once again, Tsukishima wanted to tell him to pull it up, but his voice stuck in his throat.

The next few seconds happened in slow motion. Ukai set the ball in a smooth arc, set to land a few feet away from Yamaguchi. He darted forward to receive the ball, his tongue darting out, and Tsukishima could see the tightness in his face, the telltale signs of pain. His knee pad slid down his leg, completely exposing his knee, and Tsukishima realized too late what was going to happen. Yamaguchi fell forward, reaching out for the ball, and hit the ground with a horrible _crack._

It felt like the world stopped turning. Yamaguchi crumpled to the floor with a gasp and didn’t move. There was a ringing in Tsukishima’s ears and he knew something was very, very wrong. He wanted to rush to Yamaguchi’s side, but he felt rooted to the spot. He felt sick. Yamaguchi landed on his knee and something snapped and that could mean a lot of things Tsukishima didn’t want to consider.

The team rushed to Yamaguchi’s side, but Tsukishima didn’t move. He stared blankly at where the crumpled figure of his best friend laid. They crowded around him and all started speaking at once, but he could hear Yamaguchi’s broken sobs over the cacophony. His ears rang. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“Tsukishima!” He wasn’t sure who it was that called to him, but he shook his head. He didn’t want to see him. He didn’t want to see him in pain.

Several puzzle pieces clicked into place in his head. His pain when doing diving drills at the training camp. The way he limped when he ran. The pain in his face when he stretched. His mom said at the dinner party that he was practicing almost nonstop, working harder, and for what? A starting spot he’d never get? All he got in return was a busted knee.

He took one step forward, then stopped. There were too many fights going on inside him. He wanted to rush to Yamaguchi’s side and hold him as he cried, but he didn’t want to go over there and see him in pain. He wanted to hit him over the head, maybe hurt his other knee to match, for working himself into an injury. How stupid could he be?

Tsukishima took another jilted step towards the group. They were talking about Yamaguchi’s parents, and the hospital. Was it that bad? Of course it was. He’d heard the snap when Yamaguchi fell. His ears were still ringing. Was this really happening?

He forced himself into the group of people and dropped to his knees next to Yamaguchi. His face was red and streaked with tears, and his lips trembled with the effort of keeping his sobs in. “Tsukki,” he gasped out. “Tsukki.”

“What did you do?” His words came out harsher than he intended. 

Yamaguchi drew his shoulders up to his ears and let out a small sob. “I don’t know. It hurts.” He leaned forward and gripped Tsukishima’s forearms tightly. “Tsukki.”

Tsukishima couldn’t hold him. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell him that it would be okay, because he didn’t want to lie to him. He didn’t look at Yamaguchi’s knee. He stared at his tear-stained face and his swollen eyes and thought it unfair how ugly crying made him, when Yamaguchi was the most beautiful constellation in the sky. How unfair of this injury to snuff out his light.

Takeda came running back over. Tsukishima was too busy staring into Yamaguchi’s eyes to really listen to what he was saying, but he heard something about his car and the hospital. Yamaguchi was staring at Tsukishima and mumbling something that Tsukishima couldn’t understand. He felt strangely detached from everything, and he wasn’t even the one who had gotten hurt.

“Tsukishima,” Takeda said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “can you help us get him up?”

Tsukishima stood up, but Yamaguchi’s hands followed him, nails digging into his forearms. “Tsukki,” he whimpered again. He looked like he was in so much pain, and Tsukishima wanted that tragic look on his face to go away. He’d do anything, even take on the injury for himself, to make those tears disappear. Love makes people think stupid things.

He shook Yamaguchi’s hands off and took a spot at Yamaughi’s side, then slipped a hand under his armpit. “Ready.”

Yamaguchi’s whimpers transformed into begs. “Please, no. It’ll hurt.”

“On the count of three,” Ukai said. Tsukishima nodded.

“Please, make it stop hurting,” Yamaguchi whimpered. “Please. Tsukki.” He didn’t know why Yamaguchi kept uttering his name like that, but Tsukishima burned with shame at the way it made him feel.

“One.”

“Tsukki.”

“Two.”

“Tsukki, please.”

“Three.”

They pulled Yamaguchi up by his shoulders. Yamaguchi cried out in pain, and it sounded so raw and horrible that Tsukishima cringed. Tsukishima pulled one arm around his shoulder and wrapped his free arm around Yamaguchi’s waist, trying to keep him elevated off the floor. Yamaguchi’s head lolled forward. He seemed to have lost the will to hold his cries back, and now his sobs echoed throughout the gym. Tsukishima tightened his grip on Yamaguchi’s waist to ground himself. He wanted to whisper words of encouragement, but he couldn’t find his voice.

Takeda directed them to the gym doors. They took slow, calculated steps, trying to avoid jostling Yamaguchi’s knee, but it did nothing. Yamaguchi’s height, which had seemed like a blessing a few moments ago, was now a curse as his feet dragged on the floor, making his knee jerk every few seconds. Every step ripped another sob out of Yamaguchi’s mouth. Tsukishima wanted to kiss him quiet. Tsukishima wanted to stop thinking about Yamaguchi like this when he was in pain.

Outside the gym, Ukai’s car was already running. Takeda opened the door and said, “Help him inside.”

It was difficult, but they managed to hoist Yamaguchi into the car sideways and prop his legs up on the seat. “Tsukki,” he whimpered weakly. “Tsukki.”

Tsukishima squeezed the ankle on his good leg, but said nothing. Yamaguchi reached out with one shaking hand, but Tsukishima didn’t take it. If possible, Yamaguchi cried even harder.

“Tsukishima,” Takeda said. Tsukishima turned around to face his worried teacher. “Will you go with him to the hospital? It would be easier with you there helping him.”

He glanced back and Yamaguchi, who watched him with wide eyes. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to hold Yamaguchi in the backseat of the car and tell him that everything would be okay. He wanted to kiss the salty tears off his face to distract Yamaguchi from the pain. He wanted to tell him just how badly this hurt him too, seeing him in pain like this. He wanted his love to outweigh the pain.

“No,” he muttered, “I can’t go.”

Yamaguchi’s face twisted into something that would have been anger were he not in so much pain. “Tsukki,” he cried. “Please, come with me. I’m scared.” He let out a shuddery breath and repeated, “I’m scared.”

Tsukishima shook his head. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. If he sat in that backseat with Yamaguchi, he’d go crazy. His head was swimming, and he thought he might throw up. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

Takeda sighed, then nodded. “Then I’ll go with them. We’ll have to cancel the rest of practice. You should go home and get some rest.”

Tsukishima nodded numbly. Yamaguchi called out to him, his hand reaching out, but Tsukishima didn’t take it.. Takeda gently shut the door on Yamaguchi and Tsukishima let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Takeda went around to the other side of the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat.

Tsukishima finally looked through the window at Yamaguchi. Tears dripped from his eyes. Yamaguchi was so beautiful. He put all the stars in the sky to shame, even when he cried. Tsukishima pressed his hand against the glass and wished it was Yamaguchi’s warm skin he was feeling. He wished he had the strength to get in that car. He wished he wasn’t a coward.

Yamaguchi shook his head at Tsukishima as the car pulled away and left the parking lot. Tsukishima watched it go. A million thoughts were flying through his head, but the idea that he’d walked away from something important, that he’d fucked up some monumental moment, prevailed. Of course he had. He was a lovesick coward. He should have been there for Yamaguchi, but just like everything else, he’d left him to fare alone. Tsukishima had always thought he was the one going ahead, and Yamaguchi would catch him if he fell. But he was starting to think that Yamaguchi was ahead, but when he fell, Tsukishima never caught him.

“Tsukishima.” Daichi was at his side, arms crossed, face tight with worry. “Come on. We’re going back to the club room.”

Tsukishima nodded but didn’t move. He stared at where the car had been and marvelled at how badly one could fuck something up. 

“Tsukishima? Are you okay?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Tsukishima must have been really out of it, because he let Daichi wrap an arm around his shoulder and lead him back to the club room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suprise, bitch. bet you thought you'd seen the last of me  
> but fr i didn't know if i'd ever come back to this fic but......today is my friend sam's birthday so i thought, what better what to come back?  
> im really sorry for not updating. so much happened and then i felt like it was too late to finish this fic but i'm gonna finish it! i swear! thank u all for the patience because omg six months since the last update. corona is a thing now. wild.  
> n e ways thanks guys see you all in another six months for the next update (that's maybe a joke. not sure yet)


End file.
